


When It Don't Come Easy

by enigmaticblue



Series: When It Don't Come Easy [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 65,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1712435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going rapidly AU during the events of Entropy in BtVS S6, Spike makes a couple of wishes that will change everything. What is Buffy going to do when presented with a very different Spike-who doesn't feel quite the same way about her anymore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Friend in Need

**“I have seen peace. I have seen pain,/resting on the shoulders of your name./Do you see the truth through all their lies?/Do you see the world through troubled eyes?/And if you want to talk about it anymore,/lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,/I’m a friend./I have seen birth. I have seen death,/lived to see a lover’s final breath./Do you see my guilt? Should I feel fright?/Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?/And if you want to talk about it once again,/on you I’ll depend. I’ll cry on your shoulder./You’re a friend…” ~James Blunt, “Cry”**

 

Spike growled in frustration as Buffy left. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, it was never enough for her. Never enough to convince her that he’d changed—that he _was_ changing—for her. So what he felt was real for _him_ , huh? Well, Spike would make it just a little less real.

 

He headed for the Magic Box, hell-bent on finding something to numb the pain. A forgetting spell, maybe? Spike wouldn’t mind forgetting all about Buffy; knowing her had brought him nothing but pain. He might have tried going to Tara, but he knew she was trying to mend things with Willow, and he wasn’t going to barge in on their date.

 

No, he was on his own for this one; Spike could look forward to being on his own for a long time to come, it seemed.

 

Anya was behind the counter when he arrived, talking to the dark-haired vengeance demon who had caused so much trouble at Buffy’s birthday party. Her identity barely registered; Spike was too intent on getting what he came for to really think about the implications of Anya and Halfrek having a girls’ night out.

 

“I need a spell,” Spike said without preamble.

 

Anya’s eyes brightened as soon as she recognized him, which probably should have alarmed him, but Spike wasn’t thinking about _that_ , either. “Just a second,” she said, turning to speak with the other woman in hushed whispers.

 

Spike’s sharp ears caught their entire conversation, and he realized that Anya wasn’t human any longer. His mouth curved into a rather nasty smirk; he _could_ make a wish. She wanted vengeance on Xander? Well, Spike wouldn’t mind Xander getting a bit of what was coming to him. After all, Harris was one of the reasons that Buffy refused to give them a chance. If it weren’t for her little friends, she might actually _think_ about things, rather than just assume the worst about his intentions.

 

Not that he was going to wish that Buffy would love him, or anything like that; Spike didn’t want to force her into it. He just wanted Buffy and her Scoobies to open their sodding eyes and see what was right in front of their noses.

 

“So what do you need?” Anya asked, turning back to him once Halfrek had left.

 

Spike shrugged. “I don’t know. A numbing spell, maybe?” He hesitated. “Or we could dive right in to what you want.”

 

Anya looked surprised that he would be the first to bring it up. “I take it you heard.”

 

“I heard.” Spike gave her a speculative look. “The question is what you’re going to do for me if I make this wish for you.”

 

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

 

“What if I want to make a wish for myself?” Spike asked. “Can you grant it?”

 

“Not if you’ve already made a wish,” Anya admitted. “We’re not genies; we can’t grant three of them. You pretty much get one shot.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I guess we need to figure out how we’re both going to get what we want, then.”

 

Anya sighed, then ducked behind the counter, retrieving a bottle of Jack Daniels and setting it down. “I think we might need some refreshment for that.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was grateful that she hadn’t had any time to think about the look on Spike’s face when she’d confronted him earlier in the day. If it had been anyone but Spike wearing that expression, Buffy would have felt horribly guilty about the hurt she’d caused; he’d looked so— _wounded_ , Which was impossible, really, because soulless vampires didn’t feel hurt, and they didn’t fall in love.

 

Maybe if Buffy hadn’t had to worry about the nerds, who were proving to be a bit more challenging as foes than she’d expected—or if she hadn’t been trying to patch things up between her and Dawn—she wouldn’t have been able to block the recent interaction with Spike from her mind.

 

If she’d let herself think about it, Buffy would have had to admit that every scrap of evidence pointed to Spike being able to feel, and that he’d done nothing to indicate that he wanted to harm her. Quite the opposite, actually.

 

So it was probably a good thing for the Slayer’s peace of mind that she didn’t have time to think about any of it, that she could forget the hurt on Spike’s face, the realization that adding those last few words had been a needless cruelty.

 

_“I think it is. For you.”_

 

Buffy might have been able to deliberately forget the harm she’d caused, but her own words echoed in the corners of her mind; if she’d had but a moment to think about it, she would have recognized those words for the lie they were.

 

The very fact that she was alive bore witness to the truth of Spike’s feelings.

 

So it was really a good thing that Buffy was too intent on watching Willow trace the video feeds to find out where the nerds had planted their cameras to think about any of that.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike watched Anya slam back another drink; he was impressed at the woman’s ability to put away the shots without toppling over, although he supposed it might have had something to do with the fact that she was a vengeance demon again.

 

“You really want him to suffer?” Spike asked.

 

“Of course I want him to suffer!” Anya protested. “He left me! Xander humiliated me!”

 

Spike tilted his head, meeting her eyes. While he had no problem wishing vengeance on Harris, the problem was that there was only one wish, and if she didn’t want him to use it on Xander, Spike wanted to use it for himself. He wondered what Buffy would do when he no longer loved her; Spike had a feeling that she might change her tune then.

 

No matter what the Slayer said, Spike couldn’t believe that she felt nothing at all for him.

 

Anya softened under his steady gaze. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I just want him to hurt as much as I do. All this time, I’ve been so angry with him, but I keep thinking that I did something wrong, you know?”

 

“No,” Spike said softly. “He’s a wanker, pet. Nothing you can do about that.”

 

Anya shook her head helplessly. “He left me, Spike. There had to be a reason for it; how do I know it wasn’t me?”

 

“Because he’d have to be more than the git he is—he’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind, too,” Spike replied, reaching up to brush the tears from her cheeks gently.

 

Anya sniffled. “I hate this feeling. I just—I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

 

Spike hesitated. He could make this wish for her, and he would be giving up the chance of getting a little of his own back, at least through a wish. There might be another way—a spell to forget, or to end, love.

 

For the moment, Anya seemed to need this more than he did, even though they were very much in the same position—loving people who couldn’t or wouldn’t love them back in the way they deserved.

 

It was really too bad that he wasn’t in love with Anya, or that they couldn’t move on together. Somehow he thought that might be the best revenge, but Spike knew that it would be no more than a brief solace, and he could get that somewhere else with less hurt on either side. He didn’t want to do her any more harm than had already been done.

 

Right now, though, he could make a wish. He could make things easier on her.

 

“Then I wish that everything you feel right now, Xander would feel instead, so you don’t have to hurt,” Spike said. “Figure it’s only right.”

 

Anya’s face changed to that of the demon’s. “Done.” She shifted back to her human guise just as quickly, her eyes widening as she realized exactly what he’d done for her. She promptly burst into tears, which would have alarmed Spike, if not for the fact that she was smiling. “Thank you, Spike. You’re the first person all day who actually wanted to help me.”

 

Spike couldn’t help the smile that tilted up the corners of his mouth. Her gratitude was overwhelming, and it felt pretty damn good; it was about time someone appreciated his efforts on their behalf. “Then it worked?” he asked.

 

Anya smiled, her tears quickly drying up as the relief settled in. Her love for Xander had changed to a gentle ache, as though dulled by years that hadn’t yet passed; she might have arrived at this point on her own, but it would have required a lot more time. Anya had wanted to feel better more than she’d wanted Xander to suffer, and this was just what the doctor ordered.

 

“Perfectly.” She frowned, realizing what he’d just done.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

 

“You,” she said bluntly. They’d already discussed the virtue that her directness could be. “You didn’t get your wish.”

 

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, really. I’ll figure something else out.”

 

“No,” Anya insisted. “There has to be something.”

 

Spike shrugged, not thinking much about what he said, knowing that Anya couldn’t grant his wish.

 

How was he to know that Halfrek had been hanging around, waiting for his wish, on the off chance that Anya wouldn’t be able to grant his wish against Xander, or that Spike would give her a chance to get even with Buffy for embarrassing her so badly at that party?

 

“Wish I could be the sort of man she could love. Either that, or that I could stop loving her.”

 

That was all it took for his entire world to change.

 

Spike didn’t hear her whispered words over the jangling of the bell as he left the shop. “Done, and done.”

 

He did, however, hear the beating of his heart.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara clutched her books a little tighter to her chest as she hurried back to her apartment. The date with Willow had been nice—better than nice, really; it was like slipping into her favorite pair of shoes, comfortable and easy.

 

She frowned at the memory. Too easy, maybe, given what had happened between them. It was going to take a lot longer for Tara to trust Willow again, to know that the other woman wouldn’t simply resort to magic to smooth over their problems. Willow had made a lot of progress, but that didn’t mean that everything was fixed.

 

There was a good possibility that things would never be fixed, that she would never be able to trust Willow again, but Tara wanted to try.

 

She still loved Willow; that much hadn’t changed.

 

After their meeting, Tara had gone to the school library to research a paper that was due soon. Not surprisingly, without the constant immersion in Buffy’s problems and saving the world, Tara was finding it a lot easier to keep up with her schoolwork.

 

Of course, she still found herself dealing with Spike on a regular basis, but his visits represented welcome breaks in her otherwise mundane life; he was just a reminder of the world that existed after dark. Being with Spike was a little like hanging out with the bad boy at school; you knew you weren’t going to do anything _wrong_ , but there was still the lure of the forbidden, and that was like a shot of adrenalin.

 

At least, that was true in theory, because Spike really didn’t strike Tara as all that threatening these days, or all that evil. Morally ambiguous, maybe, but not truly bad.

 

Tara frowned as she strode down the hallway towards her apartment door. She could see a figure huddled on the floor right next to her apartment, but before alarm could settle in, the black leather duster and platinum hair gave Spike’s identity away.

 

It wasn’t terribly unusual for Spike to simply show up, but Tara had never known him to wait for her return before; typically, he would come back later and let her know that he’d been by while she was gone. The fact that he was waiting suggested that something was up—something serious.

 

“Spike?” Tara called as she approached him cautiously.

 

He looked up at her then, and she could see that he had a black eye and a split lip. More than that, his aura had completely changed.

 

Tara was suddenly quite sure that this wasn’t Spike she was looking at.

 

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he mumbled, ducking his head again.

 

“You came to the right place,” Tara reassured him, unlocking the door quickly. “Come inside now.”

 

He got to his feet, showing an odd lack of grace that didn’t fit with what Tara had seen of him at all.

 

Of course, his aura revealed that he wasn’t actually a vampire any longer, so perhaps that explained it.

 

“Sit down,” Tara said, pointing him towards the threadbare couch she’d found at Goodwill. He sat down gingerly, his movements tentative. “I’m going to get something for your face,” she said.

 

She filled a plastic bag with ice and wrapped it in a kitchen towel for the bruises, and then wet a cloth to sponge the blood off his lip. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked gently. When he didn’t reply immediately, she tried again. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

 

“An alley,” Spike said, mumbling around the wet cloth she was daubing his mouth with. “There was a dark-haired woman there, and she—” He shook his head impatiently, dislodging Tara’s hands. “No. No, that’s not right. I was—I was in a shop, talking with a woman. We—we were drinking.”

 

That explained the scent of alcohol she’d caught on his breath, and Tara thought that the shop had to be the Magic Box. No amount of liquor would turn a vampire into a human, however, so she was still in the dark about what had changed him so drastically. “What else?”

 

Spike took the ice she handed him and pressed it to his bruised face. “I made a wish, and she granted it.”

 

Tara swallowed hard, realizing what that meant: Anya was a vengeance demon again, and the other woman—demon—had probably been trying to get one of them to make a wish for her; that would certainly explain Anya’s odd behavior from earlier, when Tara had seen her while on her date with Willow.

 

If Spike had made a wish, though, why wasn’t everything different?

 

“What did you wish for?” Tara asked.

 

Spike kept the ice against his face, muffling his words. “I wished that he would experience her pain so she didn’t have to hurt.”

 

“Oh.” Tara considered that for a moment; as wishes went, it wasn’t a bad one, since Xander wasn’t going to be eviscerated, and the entire world hadn’t gone kerplooey. Of course, none of that explained why Spike was sitting on her couch with a heartbeat, looking like he’d gone a couple of rounds with the Slayer. “I assume that you made another wish.”

 

He frowned, then winced when he felt the bruising. “I don’t think so. No, I—the woman said she could only grant one wish, and that’s the one I made.”

 

Tara realized that Spike hadn’t once mentioned anybody by name, although it was easy enough to guess who he was referring to from the context. “Spike, do you remember anybody’s name?”

 

Blue eyes met hers, and Tara could see a wealth of emotion there—confusion, pain, fear, anguish, guilt. It was overwhelming, and she wasn’t even inside his head. “No. It’s—everything—it’s like a book I read once. I remembered that you had been kind, so I came here. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t…”

 

He trailed off, and Tara could see his jaw working as he tried to keep back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “You did the right thing,” she assured him, not certain how she was going to help, but knowing that she had to try. “What would you like me to call you?”

 

Spike looked down at the ugly green carpet and then back up at her again. “I suppose I’m still William. I don’t feel like William anymore, though. Who am I now?”

 

Tara only wished that she knew the answer.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy watched as Willow pulled up feed after feed; everywhere the Slayer or the others might be, a camera had been there, watching them, and it was impossible to know for how long. She bit back a curse as she realized that the nerds had probably seen her having sex with Spike, depending on how long they’d had the cameras up. She flushed, hoping that it wasn’t information they were going to be sharing anytime soon.

 

The picture on the laptop shifted, and Buffy watched as Anya locked up the Magic Box in preparation to leave. Her head snapped around when she heard Xander’s whimper. “Xander? Are you okay?”

 

He shook his head. “No, it hurts.”

 

“What hurts?” she asked insistently. “What happened?”

 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Seeing her. I just—it hurts too much to breathe.”

 

Buffy noticed that he’d gone pale and was clutching at his stomach. Willow looked anxiously at him. “What can we do, Xander? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

 

“It’s not like that,” he said, clutching at a chair so he could sit down. “It’s not physical.”

 

Buffy and Willow exchanged looks. “You’re not giving us much to go on here,” Buffy said, trying to be patient.

 

“What’s wrong with Xander?” Dawn asked as she entered the room.

 

“We don’t know,” Buffy replied. “He just started moaning.”

 

Xander shot her a dirty look. “Thanks for your sympathy, Buffy.”

 

Buffy didn’t bother to check her eye roll. “I don’t know what to do for you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“I don’t know what it is!” he exclaimed. “I feel like I did after—after I left the wedding, only about ten times worse.”

 

Willow bit her lip. “Maybe a spell?” Her eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Did anybody else talk to Anya today?”

 

“Yeah,” Xander replied. “I think she’d be happier if I was dead.”

 

“She came by,” Buffy said. “Anya seemed really broken up.”

 

Dawn was the first to put two and two together. “She was trying to get me to make a wish. Anya’s a vengeance demon again.”

 

Xander shook his head. “I’m not sure—”

 

“Oh, crap.” Buffy flushed as she remembered how close she’d come to using “w” word. “You’re right, Dawnie.”

 

“We don’t know that,” Xander protested. “Anya wouldn’t—”

 

“She was talking to Tara and I about how much we must hate men since we’re lesbians,” Willow said apologetically. “I’m pretty much thinking that she wanted vengeance.”

 

Buffy winced. “To be fair, Xander, you can’t really blame her.”

 

Xander flushed deeply, looking like he was about to start crying, a sight that all the girls found highly disturbing. The last time Xander had cried had been at Buffy’s funeral. “Maybe I deserve it, but it would be nice to know what she wished for, and whether this is ever going to go away.”

 

“Someone should go talk to Anya,” Willow said. “No one else is going to know except the person who made the wish, and we don’t know who that was.”

 

“I can go,” Buffy said. “I think she might listen to me; we were definitely connecting before Xander showed up.”

 

“Are you guys sure none of you wished for anything?” Xander asked.

 

All three of the girls shook their heads vehemently. “I never use that word anymore,” Dawn said. “And I’m never going to again.”

 

Buffy gave Xander a sympathetic look. “I’ll see what I can find out. Even if Anya did curse you, she’ll probably be happy to talk about it. She always enjoyed talking vengeance before.”

 

Xander’s dark eyes were full of hurt at her attempt at levity. “Could you try to convince her to lift the curse, Buffy? I don’t think I can live with this for very long.”

 

“I’ll ask her,” Buffy promised, but she didn’t say that she thought that the chance Anya would willingly lift the curse was akin to a snowball’s chance in hell.


	2. Bruised Hearts

**“Do you always have to tell him everything/on your mind?/You know that too much honesty can be/so unkind…You always try to find what’s holding him/away from you./But do you ever see your anger standing there/Right between you?/And every time you throw him to the wall/why are you surprised to see he’s breakable?” ~Fisher, “Breakable”**

 

Tara had no idea what she was going to do with him. Letting Spike crash on her couch for the night was one thing; letting him stay indefinitely was something else altogether. Obviously, there had been another wish made, but Spike—no, William—had been in shock, and in no condition to recreate the scene for her.

 

She supposed that talking to Anya would be the next logical step, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave William on his own. He’d been set completely adrift, even though he wasn’t completely clueless. From what he’d said, his memory loss was more a result of his understandable disorientation than because he had no recollection of events.

 

It was weird to lie in bed, though, knowing that there was someone else close enough to call—particularly when that someone was male. Not since she’d left home had Tara slept so close to a man.

 

Oddly enough, it probably would have been less weird if it had actually been Spike sleeping in her living room.

 

Tara frowned, hearing movement from the main room, and rose to see what was going on. A quick glance at the clock told her it was either very early or very late, and certainly time to be sleeping.

 

It looked like she wasn’t going to be getting much sleep at this point.

 

“Sp—William?” she called.

 

He froze, his head coming up sharply, a guilty expression on his face. “I-I’m sorry.”

 

William had been in the process of opening one of her cupboards, and Tara moved to the kitchen. “Did you need something?”

 

“A drink of water?” he asked. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

 

“It’s no trouble.” Tara retrieved a glass and filled it with water, watching as he drank thirstily. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

 

“No.” William stared at the now-empty glass, rather than at her.

 

Tara hesitated. “Was the couch not comfortable? Because if you want my bed…”

 

“No!” he said quickly. “No, I couldn’t take your bed. It’s just—it doesn’t feel right.”

 

She went to sit on the couch, noting that the sheets and blanket she’d gotten for him were tangled. Apparently he’d been having just as much trouble sleeping as she had been. She waited for William to join her before asking, “Do you remember any more now?”

 

William shifted slightly. “I remember everything,” he admitted in a low voice. “It’s that I don’t feel the same way about things, you see.”

 

Tara grimaced. “I don’t see.”

 

She heard his sigh. “I’m not explaining it very well,” William admitted. “It feels as though I have been a passenger inside my own mind for all these years, and now I’m the one in control. You were the only person I could remember who had treated me kindly who might be able to help, and about whom I felt the same way as Spike did.”

 

Tara began to see what he meant. “So you’re saying that we’re still friends?”

 

“Yes.” William’s face was earnest, his expression very much like one Spike had worn during their last conversation. They had been discussing poetry, which was rather ironic when you thought about it. “We _are_ friends, then?”

 

“Of course,” Tara replied. “Do you—do you know what happened?”

 

William was quiet for a long moment. “I—Spike—made the wish for Anya. She was so sad, you see, and I thought that—Xander, isn’t it?—deserved a taste of his own medicine. Anya told me that I could only make one wish, and I thought she might need it more than I did.”

 

Tara frowned. “What happened? I know that Buffy broke up with you—with Spike, but that was weeks ago now. I thought you were doing okay.”

 

“She said that she thought my—Spike’s—feelings were real. For him.”

 

Tara didn’t bother trying to hide her wince. That had been cruel, and the only reason she could think of behind Buffy’s words would be to try to force Spike away. Well, Buffy had managed to get rid of Spike, although Tara had to wonder if Buffy would be pleased with the results. “So you went to the Magic Box,” she prompted.

 

“Yes, and Anya and I spoke at length, and we drank,” William admitted. “Then I made the wish, and as I was leaving, she asked if I didn’t want something for myself.”

 

Tara was beginning to see where this was going. “And you made a wish, thinking that she couldn’t grant it.”

 

“Yes, I wished I could be the sort of man Buffy could love, or that I could stop loving her.” William shrugged. “I don’t know why _this_ happened, though.”

 

Tara could understand it. Vengeance demons were amazingly literal at times. Dawn had wished that no one would leave her, and the curse had resulted in no one being able to leave Buffy’s birthday party, even though that hadn’t really been what Dawn wanted. Spike had wished to be a man, although probably not in the literal sense, and here he was—human.

 

That last half of his wish, though… “Do you still love her?” Tara asked.

 

William gave her a puzzled look. “Love who?”

 

Tara thought she had her answer. “Never mind. What happened after that?”

 

He touched his bruised lip gently. “I-I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” William admitted sheepishly. “I ran into a group of men who said that they wanted my wallet. I knew that I didn’t have anything, so I tried to run, and then I had to fight.” He gave her a sweetly rueful smile. “I’m not very good at it anymore.”

 

“You got away,” Tara pointed out pragmatically. “So it could have been a lot worse.”

 

“I suppose,” he said doubtfully.

 

“Were they human?” Tara asked, thinking about the chip.

 

He hesitated, then nodded. “I believe so; I don’t think I would have escaped otherwise. I ran straight here.”

 

Tara gave him a reassuring smile. “You did the right thing, William.”

 

“You don’t mind me staying?” he asked.

 

She shook her head. “No. You should try to get some sleep.”

 

William sighed. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to. I don’t feel all that tired.”

 

Tara would have encouraged him to watch television to see if that wouldn’t help him relax, but she didn’t have a television, and she wouldn’t have been able to afford cable even if she had. She hesitated, and then asked, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

 

“No, you should get some rest if you can.”

 

The words were bravely said, but Tara could see the longing in his eyes, and she knew that she would have preferred someone to stay with her had she been in William’s situation. “I’ll stay.”

 

She settled next to him on the couch, somehow unsurprised when William’s hand came to cover her own. Tara moved so that they were holding hands and tried to remember the last time she had done this with a man. Maybe right after her mother had died, but there had been a desperation to all her encounters with the opposite sex then that wasn’t there now.

 

Instead, there was only a comfortable silence, and Tara wondered if this wasn’t what having a brother _should_ have been like, instead of the twisted mess her relationship with Donny had become. “It’s going to be okay,” Tara promised him, feeling suddenly that it might be.

 

Whatever came of her relationship with Willow, Tara still had family, even though it wasn’t quite what she’d expected.

 

William’s only reply was to clutch her hand a little more tightly.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was feeling more than a little overwhelmed at the moment. Not only did she have the nerds to deal with now, but she also had to worry about Xander and whatever Anya had done to him. Of course, considering all the things that Anya _could_ have done, depending on who she’d convinced to make the wish for her, he’d gotten off pretty lightly.

 

Although Buffy was fairly certain that Xander wouldn’t agree with that assessment.

 

Of course, all of that was piled on top of her day-to-day concerns: Dawn, work, slaying, bills—everything. Buffy was trying to make it work, she really was; after her trip into insane-o land and nearly killing everyone she loved, Buffy had realized that she needed to make some changes.

 

She was alive, so maybe it was about time she started _living_.

 

First, she had to take care of those stupid nerds and figure out what Anya had done to Xander, and Buffy thought that going to see Anya would probably be the easier of the two tasks. Fixing what had been done was a different story, but if Buffy had the information, that would be a good start for now.

 

Thankfully, Buffy had the day off from the Doublemeat Palace, and she went by the Magic Box that morning, hoping to find Anya there.

 

The vengeance demon was busy counting the cash in her drawer, and she glanced up when the bell above the door jangled. “Oh. Hi, Buffy.”

 

The less-than-warm welcome had Buffy rethinking the ease of this mission. “Hey, Anya. I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

“Yes?” Anya asked, still counting her money, not bothering to look at Buffy.

 

“It’s about Xander.” Buffy watched the other woman; when she didn’t get an immediate response, she sighed, “I think you know what I’m talking about, Anya.”

 

“What do you want me to say, Buffy?” Anya demanded. “I’m not sorry. He deserves every second of agony.”

 

Buffy bit her tongue and counted to ten, reminding herself that Anya _was_ the wronged party, which meant that she deserved a little patience. “Okay. I’ll grant you that Xander probably deserves a little misery, but he was already feeling bad before you made the wish.”

 

“I didn’t make the wish,” Anya replied, sounding a little smug.

 

Buffy waited for her to offer more information and, when it wasn’t forthcoming, asked, “Okay, so who did you get to make the wish for you?”

 

“Spike,” Anya said. “He was really nice to me, too. A lot nicer than the rest of you.”

 

Buffy felt her heart sink. It was possible that Spike had made the wish without knowing what he was doing, but something in the way Anya relayed the information made her doubt it. “What did he wish for, Anya?”

 

“He wished Xander would experience what I was feeling, so I didn’t have to feel so horrible anymore,” Anya replied. “And I don’t. This morning was the first time I woke up without crying since Xander left me.”

 

Buffy swallowed hard. As wishes went, she couldn’t really argue with the justice of it; Xander _had_ been the one who left Anya, and Buffy knew how that felt probably better than anyone. Still, Xander was her friend, and she had to try. “How long is it going to last?” she asked. “I hate to be the one to say it, Anya, but you would have felt better after a while. If this is going to last forever—”

 

“I imagine it will last as long as it would have for me,” Anya replied. “So maybe it will last forever, or maybe he’ll get over it, but I don’t have to cry about it anymore, and I don’t have to wonder what I did wrong, or whether he’ll ever want me again, or whether _anyone_ will ever want me again.” Her eyes were fierce when she met Buffy’s. “You tell me how that’s wrong.”

 

Buffy couldn’t, and she didn’t want to. She couldn’t count the number of times when she’d wished that her pain would go away, and now Anya had gotten her wish.

 

Buffy only wished that she could have experienced some of that same relief for herself.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander curled in on himself, clutching his middle; instead of getting better, this morning he felt worse, as though he would never be happy again. He’d felt horrible after the wedding-that-wasn’t, even worse once he’d had a chance to see just how much he’d hurt Anya.

 

But it hadn’t felt like _this_.

 

Right now, he wanted to die, or maybe just to go to sleep and never wake up. Xander was certain that he’d never be happy again, so he wasn’t sure what the point of living was supposed to be.

 

The knock on the door didn’t budge him; he didn’t want to talk to anybody.

 

“Xander? It’s Buffy. I went and talked with Anya.”

 

He just lay there, wondering if Buffy would go away if he didn’t answer.

 

“Come on, Xander.”

 

She wasn’t going to go away. Xander dragged himself out of bed and over to the door, opening it for her. “What did she say?” he asked, knowing that he sounded short-tempered and not particularly caring.

 

“She said that Spike made a wish,” Buffy began, but Xander wasn’t going to let her get any further than that.

 

“Spike!” he snarled, his bad mood now having a target. “I told you that you should have killed him a long time ago, Buffy. That waste of space needs to be dusted, and I’ll—”

 

“You don’t get to touch him,” Buffy snapped, her anger nearly tangible. “He wished that you would feel Anya’s pain so she wouldn’t hurt anymore. As wishes go, it was pretty damn tame.”

 

Xander wasn’t ready to let it go. “He shouldn’t have made a wish in the first place. This was between me and Anya, and—”

 

“You hurt her, Xander!” Buffy exclaimed. “You really hurt her. What did you think she was going to do? Forgive you just as soon as you asked?”

 

Xander had hoped for it, although he hadn’t really thought it would happen. What he had thought was that, while Anya might be angry, once he told her how sorry he was, she would at least consent to maybe talk to him again.

 

He’d kind of forgotten that Anya had been a vengeance demon, and that forgiveness might not be in her makeup.

 

“I know I hurt her, Buffy,” Xander finally whispered, “but I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

 

Buffy gave him a look that was full of both impatience and pity. “Sure you can. How do you think I’ve felt the last few months?”

 

Xander didn’t know how to reply to that, so he crawled back into bed, thankful when Buffy left him alone. He wasn’t sure he could handle the guilt of knowing that he was partially responsible for how she felt on top of everything else.

 

He just didn’t want to think about any of it anymore.

 

Xander roused himself, thinking that he might know a sure-fire way of forgetting, at least for a little while. Maybe getting drunk at the Bronze wasn’t the best idea ever, but if it helped to numb the pain, he’d take it.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow spotted Tara and smiled, hurrying her steps to catch up with the other woman. “Tara!” she called when it appeared that Tara hadn’t seen her.

 

Tara’s steps slowed, and she turned to give Willow a distracted smile. “Hey.”

 

“Hi!” Willow said, wondering at Tara’s distant air. “Is everything okay?”

 

Tara nodded. “Sure. I’m fine, it’s just—something’s happened.”

 

Willow didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s going on?” Tara bit her lip, obviously conflicted. “If you can’t tell me…”

 

“It’s not my story to tell,” Tara explained. “I mean, he didn’t say I couldn’t tell anybody, but I don’t know how he would feel, and he’s—”

 

“Who’s he?” Willow asked, feeling a sense of relief. If it was a male causing this kind of distraction, then Willow could rest assured that it was truly just a friends thing, because Tara was definitely gay.

 

“You can’t tell Buffy,” Tara demanded.

 

Willow frowned. She wasn’t sure that she could hide something from Buffy, not after everything that had happened with her magic use. At the same time, she was equally certain that Tara wouldn’t ask her to keep a secret that would put anyone in danger. “Okay.”

 

“Walk with me?” Tara asked. “I have to get back; I don’t want to leave him on his own for too long.”

 

Willow fell into step beside her. “What’s going on, Tara?”

 

“I’ve been hanging out with Spike recently,” Tara admitted in a low voice. “We ran into each other at the grocery store after you and I—you know, broke up—and he was nice, so I invited him over for a cup of tea. After that, we would just hang out sometimes. It wasn’t a big deal, really.”

 

Willow had no idea where this was going, because she was fairly sure that Tara wasn’t going to tell her that she was in love with Spike, or that he’d hurt her. That wasn’t what her tone of voice indicated. “Did something happen?”

 

“You could say that,” Tara replied. “Spike made a wish yesterday.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “He was the one that made the wish? We figured someone did, after Xander suddenly felt so awful, but—”

 

“He made two wishes,” Tara said, interrupting her. “One for Anya and one for himself, but he didn’t realize the second one would be granted. He’s human.”

 

“Oh.” Willow’s eyes got even bigger. “Oh! He’s human? Really?”

 

“And he’s not really Spike,” Tara continued. “He’s William.”

 

Willow shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

 

“He’s like what he was before he became a vampire,” Tara replied. “It’s hard to explain, but if you saw him, you’d understand. He came to see me last night because he didn’t know where else to go.”

 

Willow made a face. “He’s like he was when he was human? Tara, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for him to stay with you. It could be—”

 

“Dangerous?” Tara asked, the warmth gone from her tone. “I know what I’m doing, Willow. I know Spike better than you do, and I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now.”

 

Willow realized that she was in danger of jeopardizing the fragile truce they’d wrought. “I’m sure you do, Tara, but it’s _Spike_. He’s tried to kill us all in the past. Remember Adam?” Tara’s lifted eyebrow told Willow that the other woman wasn’t buying that argument, and she could understand why.

 

After all, Buffy had just tried to kill all of them, and they had all done stupid things to put other people in danger a lot more recently than Spike’s failed negotiations with the demon cyborg.

 

“He’s not like that,” Tara insisted. “And besides, he’s my friend, and right now he needs me. If you have a problem with that…”

 

“I don’t!” Willow said quickly.

 

Tara shook her head. “I have to go. I promised William that I wouldn’t stay away for too long. He’s feeling a little lost right now, and I can sympathize.”

 

Willow watched Tara walk away, feeling as though whatever connection they’d made the previous day had been lost. She didn’t understand what had just happened, but obviously Tara felt as though she’d been insulted.

 

Willow wondered how long it was going to be two steps forward and one step back for them.


	3. Meetings

**“Never thought I’d be this way/Hung on every word you say/Scars that you gave to me/I earned all too eagerly…Every day is all the same/Take the pleasure with the pain/Things that you put me through/Never is enough for you…So I’ll fly/Find another life/I know somewhere it’s right/So why can’t I forget you?/Cause down inside of you…is all of heaven and hell.” ~Fuel, “Down Inside of You”**

 

William stared at the image in the mirror before him; he didn’t recognize that man. It had been over a century since he’d been the one wearing this skin.

 

No; that wasn’t true, and he wasn’t going to lie to himself. Spike was a part of him, just as he had been a part of Spike, even though the memories didn’t quite feel like his own.

 

It was all there, of course. In his mind’s eye, William could see everything that had happened since he had met Drusilla in that alley, even though the feelings weren’t as vibrant as they had been for Spike. Perhaps it was simply that his senses were dulled in general, though he could still remember what it had been like to see more, hear more than the average person.

 

Now he was human—because he’d wished to be the sort of man Buffy would love.

 

Funny how he didn’t love her anymore. He supposed that meant he’d gone through this for nothing.

 

A smile tugged at his lips as he remembered how Tara had roused him from his half-doze that morning to see the sunrise; so perhaps he hadn’t made that wish for nothing, though he wasn’t sure where he was going from here, or what his purpose was going to be.

 

William—or Spike, rather—hadn’t wanted a new start, a new life. All he’d wanted was to get Buffy to admit that she felt something for him, or to get over her; either way, he’d have found some relief from the torment that loving the Slayer had brought. Instead, he’d gotten something else altogether.

 

“William?”

 

He heard Tara calling him, and left the tiny bathroom to greet her. “Hello. How were your classes?”

 

“Good,” she said, her smile distracted. “Did you eat?”

 

William nodded. “I’m not incapable of taking care of myself, Tara.”

 

“I know.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just had an argument with Willow—or a disagreement.”

 

“About what?” he asked, then realized that it was probably about him, judging from the expression on her face. “I see.”

 

“It wasn’t about you,” Tara insisted. “It was more about the fact that she doesn’t trust me.”

 

William wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t want to be the cause of trouble between the two of you.” He glanced around the small apartment. “I know that I can’t stay here forever; I’ve been thinking about it today, but I’m not sure where I should go next.”

 

“I can help you find something,” Tara replied. “How much money do you have? Enough for an apartment?”

 

“I’m not sure,” William replied, pulling out the wallet he’d found in his duster pocket—the wallet that hadn’t been there before the previous night. “I found this in my coat. The last name is mine, but I don’t recognize anything.”

 

Tara took it from him, beginning to check through the contents. She raised an eyebrow at the amount of cash inside the billfold, then sat down as she began to look through the rest. There were two credit cards, a debit card, and a driver’s license with William’s picture; the address on the license, however, was hers.

 

“This is a little weird.”

 

He gave her a wry smile. “That’s one way of putting it.” William watched as she studied the driver’s license; the name was his own, but he was certain that Spike had told no one his full name. It must have had something to do with the wish that he made.

 

“Do you mind running by the bank tonight?” Tara asked. “You obviously have an account there, and it wouldn’t hurt to check the balance. That way, we’ll know what we have to work with.”

 

“That sounds like a good idea,” William replied, touching her on the shoulder. “Thank you for all your help.”

 

The reason he knew that he didn’t love Buffy was that he _did_ love Tara; he wasn’t in love with her, but he did care for her a great deal.

 

She squeezed his hand in reply. “You’re welcome.”

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn wandered aimlessly down the street. Buffy had given her money for dinner since they didn’t have much in the way of food in the house, and Buffy was busy with Willow trying to find some way of taking care of the nerds. Willow had been upset about something when she came back from campus earlier, and Buffy was still pissed off about the cameras. And apparently Xander was still miserable, and would be for a while, because Spike had made a wish.

 

When Buffy had told her what Spike had wished for, Dawn couldn’t feel too sorry for Xander.

 

That left her at loose ends, however, and she had no idea what she was going to do with her evening, especially since it didn’t seem like Buffy really wanted her around much at the moment. There were too many things to do on the Slayer-front to worry about a pesky little sister. At least, that’s how Dawn felt that Buffy saw it.

 

She paused as she saw Spike and Tara come of out the bank together, frowning as she realized that his duster was nowhere to be seen, his hair wasn’t slicked back, and his face was bruised, like he’d been fighting.

 

Oh, and it was also early evening, and the sun was still shining.

 

Dawn quickened her steps, stopping right in front of them. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

 

Tara and Spike both froze, then looked at one another, their expressions sheepish. “We were just stopping by the bank to check on W—Spike’s balance,” Tara replied. “How are you, Dawn?”

 

Dawn wasn’t going to be distracted that easily. Something was going on, and if she wasn’t mistaken, Tara had nearly called Spike “William.” No one called him that, and besides, vampires couldn’t go out in the daylight. “I’m a little curious, actually.”

 

Spike gave a sigh. “Perhaps we should go somewhere? We could get dinner, because I’m hungry, and I’m certain that Dawn must be.”

 

Dawn raised an eyebrow; apparently it wasn’t just Spike’s susceptibility to the daylight that had changed. “I could eat.” Something crazy was going on, but that wasn’t new on the Hellmouth; Dawn was used to taking things like this in stride.

 

After all, her sister was the Slayer.

 

Tara hesitated. “I don’t know. We could go back to my apartment, and I can fix something.”

 

Spike shook his head firmly. “I’ll take care of the meal. It’s the least I can do.”

 

Dawn’s curiosity was skyrocketing by that point; Spike _sounded_ different, which put a slightly different complexion on Tara’s near-use of his old name. “Me too?” she asked shamelessly. Dawn figured Spike owed her for not being around the last few months.

 

“Of course,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Where would you like to go?”

 

Twenty minutes later they were seated at one of Dawn’s favorite restaurants, the one her mom had taken her to for her last birthday. At least the one Dawn remembered Joyce taking her to. That memory was one planted by the monks; she hadn’t been here since, so she wasn’t sure if she’d enjoy it. Still, if Spike was buying, she was going to let him.

 

“Okay, what happened?” Dawn asked as soon as the waiter had taken their order.

 

She didn’t miss the look that Spike gave Tara, or her nod of encouragement. “I made a wish,” he admitted.

 

Dawn frowned. “Yeah, the one for Anya. Buffy told us about that, but I don’t see how it would allow you to be out in the sunshine.”

 

Spike hesitated, then swallowed visibly. “I made two wishes,” he admitted. “I didn’t know that the second one would be granted.”

 

“What did you wish for?” Dawn asked.

 

There was a long silence, and he finally shook his head, giving Tara a pleading look. The woman sighed. “He wished he could be the sort of man Buffy would love, or that he wouldn’t love her anymore. You know how literal vengeance demons can be sometimes.”

 

Dawn’s eyes widened. “You mean you’re human?” she hissed, remembering to keep her voice down. When he nodded, she grinned. “But that’s great!” He didn’t reply, and her smile faltered. “Isn’t it great?”

 

“It’s fine, Dawn,” he said. “It’s just a bit of a change, and I haven’t had time to get used to it yet.”

 

Dawn’s quick mind began to see the implications, and how far-reaching they might be. The crypt wouldn’t work for him any longer, which meant he’d have to find somewhere else to stay; he’d probably have to get a job of some kind, and Dawn had no idea how well that would work out, given what she’d seen of Buffy’s struggles in that area. And the bruises on his face were a reminder that he was no longer invulnerable, nor would he heal as quickly.

 

It was no wonder that Spike was looking less than thrilled.

 

Which reminded her… “So are you not Spike anymore?”

 

“It’s difficult to explain,” he replied. “I think I’d prefer it if you called me William, though.”

 

Dawn nodded slowly. “Okay.” She looked over at Tara. “So what are you going to do?”

 

“We were going to go apartment hunting tomorrow,” Tara said. “It’s a little late tonight, and I still have room on my couch.”

 

“You’ve got enough money?” Dawn asked anxiously, wondering if this meant that Spike would have to work at the Doublemeat Palace, too.

 

Well, okay, if _William_ would have to work there; it would definitely be interesting if he and Buffy had to work together.

 

“It appears that the, uh, person who did this to me restored my finances to what they were before I was killed,” William replied, and the more he talked, the more Dawn could tell that he wasn’t really Spike any longer.

 

Come to think of it, Dawn hadn’t heard one curse word from him, and that in itself was unusual.

 

“So you were rich before?” Dawn asked.

 

“Not rich,” he hedged. “But we were well enough off.”

 

Dawn looked over at Tara to see if she couldn’t get a more precise answer. “I think it’s safe to say that William has enough to live comfortably for quite a while,” was all that Tara would say.

 

“Have you told Buffy yet?” Dawn asked. “Because she’s going to wig.”

 

To say that Dawn was surprised at the expression that crossed William’s face at the mention of Buffy’s name would be to put it mildly. Spike had been in love with her sister for so long now that it was something Dawn had taken for granted, but William looked as though he’d just smelled something unpleasant.

 

“No, I haven’t,” he replied. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything, Dawn. I’d really rather not see your sister right now.”

 

Dawn blinked. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

 

“It is,” he said firmly. William’s eyes softened as he saw her uncertainty. “What has happened has not changed my feelings for you, Nibblet.”

 

His use of her nickname was comforting, and Dawn smiled in reply. “I won’t tell her,” she promised.

 

Dawn suddenly realized that, while Buffy had forbidden her from hanging out with Spike—especially at his crypt—she could hang out with _William_ without disobeying. “Can I go with you guys tomorrow?”

 

William gave her a warm smile. “I think I would like that very much.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy took the directions that Willow gave her and headed for the nerds’ lair, fully intending on kicking some ass. She was tired of their hijinks, tired of their stupid tricks and the continuing trouble. Every time she turned around, they were getting on her last nerve, and she was ready to end it.

 

She kicked in the basement door, not caring if they heard her coming. “All right. Let’s make this quick.”

 

There was no reply, and she marched down the stairs, ready for the confrontation. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to find you guys? I mean, Slayer here.” There was still no response, and Buffy didn’t see any of them.

 

“Damn it,” she muttered, looking around for any sign of where they might have gone. She tilted the whiteboard, thinking it might hold some clue, but all it said was, “Too late.”

 

Buffy frowned. “That can’t be good.”

 

The saw blades came out of nowhere, and it was all Buffy could do to dodge them, while grabbing everything she could in the hope that Willow would be able to piece something together. In the end, all she managed to get were a few books and papers and some computer discs; she just hoped it would be enough to put Willow on the right track.

 

She spared a passing thought for Spike, thinking about the look on his face when she’d confronted him the other night. Her words had stung him; she’d been able to tell that from his expression.

 

At this point, Buffy wasn’t sure what she felt for Spike. She thought that she hated him—but then again, there had been times when she had really enjoyed spending time with him. She didn’t love him; of that she was certain. Buffy had no warm, fuzzy feelings for Spike; she didn’t admire him or respect him, and she didn’t trust him. Those were all things that you needed for a good relationship; therefore, they had no future.

 

Buffy couldn’t really feel sorry for what she’d said; Spike did need to get over her, because nothing was ever going to come of his obsession for her. The Slayer and a soulless vampire? It would never work.

 

By the time she got back to her house, Buffy was hot and tired from the walk and carting around the box of stuff she’d rescued from the nerd’s saws. “How did it go?”

 

“They ruined my jacket,” Buffy huffed, dumping the box of stuff on the table and showing Willow the tear.

 

Willow made a face. “Ouch. You’re lucky all it got was the jacket. What happened?”

 

“Big saw blades,” Buffy replied, making a face. “Don’t ask. They got away again, though.”

 

“We’ll get them, Buffy,” Willow assured her. “I’ll get started on this right away.”

 

“Thanks.” Buffy sat down at the table, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want this over with.”

 

“I don’t blame you.”

 

Willow’s smile was nervous, rather than reassuring, and Buffy began to smell trouble. Again. “What’s up?”

 

“Up?” Willow asked. “What do you mean?”

 

Buffy closed her eyes, unable to bear even the thought of having to deal with Willow backsliding, or anything else. She had quite enough on her plate at the moment, thank you very much. “Please don’t lie to me.”

 

Willow bit her lip, thinking of the promise that she’d made to Tara, and not wanting to break it. “Nothing, really. Tara and I just had a disagreement earlier.”

 

Buffy gave her friend a searching look, then finally nodded. “Okay. As long as there isn’t another emergency that I’m going to have to deal with.”

 

“No emergency, I promise,” Willow assured her.

 

“Where’s Dawn?” Buffy asked.

 

Willow shrugged. “She said that she was going to spend the evening with Tara. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, I don’t mind. I guess I’ll go patrol tonight.”

 

“And I’ll work on this stuff,” Willow promised. “Hopefully, I’ll have something for you in a few hours, rather than a few days.”

 

“The sooner, the better, Will,” Buffy replied. “I want those guys off the street and out of my hair. I’ve got other things to worry about right now, and I don’t need them causing any more trouble.”

 

If Buffy hadn’t missed the expression on Willow’s face, she might have found out a little sooner that Spike could be taken off her list of worries.

 

~~~~~

 

“So what’s it like?” Dawn asked quietly.

 

“It’s different. I don’t know how to explain it adequately; I don’t have the words.” William stared out into the darkness through the small window of Tara’s apartment.

 

Dawn hesitated. “Are you still—” She broke off, not knowing how to ask.

 

“Spike?” he finished for her with a tilt of his head. William considered the question. “As much as Spike was always William, yes. Whatever that means.”

 

Dawn was quiet for so long that William began to wonder if she was going to speak again. “Why haven’t you come around lately?” she finally asked. “You were always there last—last summer, and then Buffy came back and it was like you forgot about me.”

 

He heaved a sigh, knowing that she wasn’t going to like his answer. “I suppose I did. I was—rather fixated on your sister.”

 

Dawn pouted. “Everyone is fixated on Buffy,” she grumbled. “It’s always about her.”

 

“Not always, Dawn,” Tara corrected her gently, speaking for the first time. “You know Buffy and the others care about you.” She glanced at William. “You told me that Buffy wouldn’t let you see Dawn.”

 

“When has that ever stopped Spike?” William asked pragmatically. “I’m not saying that it was right, Dawn, and I am sorry if it appeared that I—that Spike abandoned you. If it makes you feel any better, things have changed, and I would still like to be your friend, if you would forgive me.”

 

He watched the emotions playing over her face: longing, uneasiness, hope. “Really? You’re not going to ditch me for Buffy again?”

 

William smiled, although the expression had more than a hint of bitterness to it. “I think it’s safe to say that there’s no possibility of that.”

 

“You’re not in love with her anymore?” Dawn asked, sounding rather incredulous.

 

William didn’t blame her for her obvious doubt; given how obsessed Spike had been, the girl had probably considered it outside the realm of possibility that he would ever fall out of love.

 

He had a slightly different perspective on Buffy’s treatment of the vampire, however, of her actions towards and use of him. She had told Spike that his feelings weren’t truly real, and had encouraged him to get over her; well, William was over her that was for certain.

 

She reminded him all too much of another woman who had broken his heart.

 

“No.” William didn’t see the need to go into detail with the girl; as far as he knew, Dawn didn’t know that Spike and Buffy had been involved, and he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. “She suggested that I get over her; I have.”

 

Dawn frowned. “But you still like me?”

 

“Of course. That hasn’t changed,” he assured her.

 

Dawn cast an anxious look at Tara, thinking that if Spike could fall out of love with Buffy, there was nothing stopping him from forgetting about her. “Does it have something to do with the wish?”

 

Tara frowned, meeting William’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

 

“There are more reasons for it than that,” William insisted. “Reasons I would rather not go into. Suffice it to say that even if the wish was the impetus for the change, I’m grateful that it freed me.”

 

Dawn raised her eyebrows at that description, but seemed content to change the subject. “So what time should I meet you guys tomorrow?”

 

“How about you meet us here around noon?” Tara suggested. “Be sure to let Buffy know where you are.”

 

Dawn shrugged. “Like she’ll care anyway.”

 

“She cares,” William said quietly. “She’s always cared about you, Dawn. When she doesn’t care…” He trailed off. “I’ve seen it, and it looks entirely different.”

 

No one knew quite what to say to that.


	4. Love Lost

**“The most tender place in my heart is for strangers/I know it’s unkind but my own blood is much too dangerous/Hangin’ round the ceiling half the time/Hangin’ round the ceiling half the time/Compared to some I’ve been around/But I really tried so hard/That echo chorus lied to me with its/“Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on”/In the end I was the mean girl/Or somebody’s in-between girl/Now it’s the devil I love/And that’s as funny as real love.” ~Neko Case, “Hold On, Hold On”**

 

Buffy froze, her limping steps coming to a complete halt. Spike and Tara stood on her front porch, talking with Dawn; she hadn’t thought that Spike would dare come around again, not after their last conversation.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked as soon as she got close enough, her tone deadly. She noticed the bruises on his face, but didn’t give it much thought, dismissing it as a product of Spike’s propensity for trouble.

 

Spike met her eyes, but she saw none of the emotion she was used to seeing. Buffy had seen him angry, seething with hatred, soft with—an emotion she couldn’t afford to acknowledge; she had never seen him cold or disinterested. “I was walking Dawn home.”

 

Buffy glanced at her sister, who had a strange expression on her face. “Dawn, I told you—”

 

“I was hanging out with Tara,” Dawn said. “I didn’t do anything you told me not to do, Buffy.”

 

Buffy decided that she was too tired and too sore to argue. “Fine.” She managed a smile for Tara. “Hey, Tara.”  


Tara’s eyes were troubled. “Hi, Buffy.” She touched Spike on the arm. “We should probably go.”

 

“Of course,” he replied. “Good night, Dawn,” he said warmly, then added in a completely different tone, “Buffy.”

 

Buffy blinked, staring after the two of them as they left. “What was Tara doing with Spike?” she asked.

 

“They’re friends,” Dawn said. “Just like he’s my friend.”

 

“Dawn—”

 

“He didn’t tell me anything, Buffy,” Dawn said, cutting her off. “If that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, I was with Tara, and I was safe. I don’t see what your problem is.”

 

“Spike isn’t a good influence on you!” Buffy exclaimed. “I don’t want you hanging out with vampires!”

 

“Why?” Dawn asked. “Because I don’t hang out with Slayers and witches all the time? I’m meeting Tara tomorrow; she said I could hang out with her since you’re going to be going after the nerds.”

 

Buffy swallowed. “Dawn, if Spike’s going to be with her—”

 

“He’s not.” Dawn gave her a cold look, rather reminiscent of the one Spike had given her. “Daylight, remember? Vampires sleep during the day.” With that parting shot, Dawn stalked into the house, and Buffy could hear her stomping all the way up the stairs.

 

Buffy sighed. “That went well,” she muttered as she shook her head, thinking about what Dawn had said. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Dawn saw Spike, as long as she was with Tara as well; what Tara had been doing with Spike, however, Buffy couldn’t say. As far as she knew, the two of them had had minimal contact, and yet they’d seemed close. Tara’s touch on his arm had been casual, as though she touched him all the time.

 

And the way he’d looked at her—as though he felt nothing at all…

 

Buffy shoved the thought to the back of her mind. It didn’t matter, because if Spike had managed to get over her somehow, it was what she’d wanted. The last thing Buffy needed right now was a lovesick vampire following her around all over the place.

 

What she did need was a hot bath, in the hopes of soaking out some of her aches and pains, and then she’d be ready for the next step in taking down the nerds.

 

She hoped.

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you okay?”

 

William turned from the kitchen sink where he’d been standing, his shoulders hunched. “I’m fine.”

 

Tara frowned, her concern obvious. “William…”

 

“Bad dreams last night,” he admitted. “They dissipate with the morning light, though.”

 

Tara thought that his eyes still appeared haunted. “Dawn should be here soon.”

 

He nodded. “I’m ready to go.”

 

Tara smiled. “Do you want some lunch first?”

 

“I could eat,” he replied.

 

Tara motioned for him to sit. “I’ll get it.”

 

After spending a day in his company, Tara was beginning to feel comfortable in his presence once again. William wasn’t so different from Spike that it made her feel strange to be with him, not now that she’d begun to grow used to his more precise speech patterns and lack of swearing. And his tendency to drop the mask even more often than Spike had. Perhaps it helped that Spike had been so honest with her; she’d known what to expect, in a sense, knowing that he’d been a poet before, that he’d been a good man. While it was still strange to think about going apartment hunting with him, strangeness abounded on the Hellmouth, and Tara didn’t mind giving him a helping hand.

 

She put a bowl of soup she’d reheated in front of him and then sat down with her own. “Do you want to talk about your dreams?”

 

“Not particularly,” William said, giving her a wry look. “It’s nothing that would be appropriate for a lady’s ears, anyway.”

 

Tara frowned, opening her mouth to tell him that she was perfectly capable of handling whatever he wanted to tell her, and then stopped, realizing that he was teasing her. She rolled her eyes in response. “I’m not a shrinking violet, William.”

 

“I know.” William began to eat. “Will you see Willow today?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Tara replied. “I thought—I thought that we were getting somewhere. I probably would have gone back to her the other night if you hadn’t shown up.”

 

William’s expression was pained. “I’m sorry that I—”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Tara said firmly. “It wouldn’t have been a good idea. When I talked with her yesterday, she tried to tell me that I shouldn’t be hanging out with you.” She sighed. “I didn’t leave Willow just because of the magic; it was because she was trying to control me. She was trying to do the same thing again yesterday, thinking that she knew better. Until she shows me that she’s changed, I can’t be with her.”

 

“I’m sorry,” William said quietly. “I know how much you love her.”

 

Tara closed her eyes. “I do, but sometimes love isn’t enough.”

 

“No, sometimes it’s not,” William acknowledged.

 

The quick knock on the door announced Dawn’s arrival. “Hey, guys,” she called as she entered. “You’ll never guess what happened last night.”

 

“What happened?” Tara asked, indulging the girl.

 

“Buffy caught the nerds!” Dawn said, coming over to stand next to William. “Willow decoded their computer discs and found out that they were going to hit a cash drop at the amusement park last night, so Buffy went to meet them. Warren had these orbs that made him super-strong, but Buffy smashed them. And then Warren and Andrew tried to get away with jet packs, but Buffy knocked Warren out, and Andrew flew into an overhang and knocked himself out.”

 

Tara smiled. “That’s great news, Dawn.” She gave the girl a stern look. “Does Buffy know that you’re here?”

 

Dawn shrugged. “I told her I was going to hang out with you today.” She gave William a triumphant look. “And I didn’t tell Buffy about you.”

 

“Thank you, Dawn,” William replied. “I appreciate that.”

 

She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, she asked if Spike was going to be here, but I told her no. It wasn’t really a lie.”

 

“No, although she might not see it that way if she finds out,” Tara responded. She looked over at William. “Buffy’s going to have to find out at some point, William.”

 

He grimaced. “Perhaps, but I’d rather put it off for as long as possible, if you don’t mind.” The expression on his face was mulish. “I don’t see how it’s any of her business.”

 

Tara exchanged a look with Dawn. “Well, she _is_ the Slayer,” Tara pointed out pragmatically. “Knowing that you’re not a vampire might be considered good news.”

 

William shook his head stubbornly. “Buffy wants nothing to do with me. I’m content to let it be.”

 

Dawn’s eyes narrowed speculatively, but all she said was, “So where are we going first?”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander knocked on the front door, then entered. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Xander,” Willow called, coming to greet him. “What are you doing here?”

 

He gave her a crooked smile, his face still bruised from his run-in with Warren the night before. “Just checking in today to make sure Buffy was okay. I know she got pretty beat up last night.”

 

Willow grimaced. “She left a little while ago. Between getting knocked around on patrol, and then getting knocked around by Warren, she wasn’t in the best of moods this morning. Especially since she’s fighting with Dawn right now.”

 

“What’s up with Dawn?” Xander asked.

 

Willow hesitated. She wasn’t sure how much detail she should be going into, especially since much of Dawn’s fight with Buffy was pretty much moot, even though Buffy didn’t know it. If Tara didn’t tell Buffy—or if Spike didn’t—Willow was going to have to break her promise soon. “She’s spending time with Tara today, and Buffy’s worried that Dawn’s using it as a cover to spend time with Spike.”

 

Xander frowned. “Dawn’s spending time with Spike? That’s not good.”

 

“That’s what Buffy thinks,” Willow replied. “But she’s with Tara, and it’s the middle of the day, so it’s not likely. How are you?” she asked, neatly changing the subject.

 

Xander grimaced. “I don’t know, Will. I—I just hurt all the time. I tried—last night I was trying to drown my sorrows when I saw Warren and his gang, but it wasn’t helping. I don’t know if anything will help.”

 

“It’s just going to take time, Xander,” Willow replied. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but—”

 

Xander scowled. “If Spike hadn’t made that wish, I wouldn’t be feeling this way.”

 

Willow was a little alarmed by the tone of Xander’s voice. If he saw Spike, Willow had no doubt that Xander would try to dust him, if only to make himself feel better.

 

Except that it would be very, very messy if he did. “You can’t do anything to Spike,” Willow insisted.

 

“Why not?” Xander demanded. “He’s a vampire, Will. We should have dusted him a long time ago.”

 

“You can’t dust him,” Willow said. “It wouldn’t work.”

 

Xander got a hurt expression on his face. “I can take him, Willow. He’s got the chip, remember?”

 

Willow winced, deciding that keeping the now-human Spike alive was probably more important than keeping her promise to Tara. Although, all Tara had asked of her was not to tell Buffy. “Spike isn’t a vampire,” she blurted out.

 

Xander blinked. “What do you mean, he’s not a vampire?”

 

“He’s not a vampire,” Willow repeated. “He’s human. Spike made another wish, and he got turned into a human.”

 

All the wind went out of Xander’s sails with that information; maybe he could beat Spike up now that he was human, but it just wouldn’t be the same as dusting a vampire. He certainly wouldn’t get the same kind of satisfaction. “Does Buffy know?”

 

“Tara asked me not to tell her,” Willow replied. “So you can’t either.”

 

Xander frowned. “But we don’t know what Spike’s like as a human. There’s no guarantee that he’s not evil.”

 

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think so, Xander. Not if Tara’s hanging out with him.”

 

Xander had to concede the point. Tara wasn’t the sort to hang out with someone who was evil. “Okay, but I still want to punch him.”

 

“Fair enough,” Willow replied. “You want to get something to eat?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

~~~~~

 

Anya cleaned the glass on the front cabinet, humming cheerfully under her breath. She felt better than she had in—well, months at the very least. The last year had been a haze of getting engaged, hiding the fact that she was engaged, planning for a wedding, and then being left at the altar. There had been _something_ that didn’t feel quite right for almost a year, and now she felt—wonderful.

 

Light as a feather, free as a bird, and altogether great.

 

“I see someone’s in a cheerful mood today,” Halfrek said from behind her.

 

Anya turned to smile at her. “Hello, Hallie. What are you doing back in town?”

 

“I came to see how you were,” she replied. “So you got someone to make the wish for you.”

 

“Spike did,” Anya said cheerfully. “It was a very thoughtful wish, too.”

 

Hallie raised an eyebrow, highly amused at the state of affairs. “I’m sure it was. Spike does make thoughtful wishes.”

 

Anya frowned, sensing that something was going on. “What did you do?”

 

“I granted his wish,” Hallie said off-handedly. “He was so nice to you, I thought it was only fair that he got what he wanted.”

 

Obviously the world hadn’t ended, so Anya knew that whatever Spike’s wish had been, it wasn’t anything like Cordelia’s. Even so… Her eyes widened as she remembered Spike’s parting words from the other night. “What did you do to him?”

 

“He’s human now, complete with a second chance at love,” Hallie said. “You could see that the Slayer didn’t appreciate him. I owed the both of them, so it was only fair.”

 

“What was only fair?” Anya asked, and then realized what Hallie was referring to. “He’s not in love with her anymore.”

 

“She didn’t want him,” Hallie replied. “So now he doesn’t want her.” She smiled smugly. “He has money, looks, everything a girl could want. Maybe you should take him for a test run; if I remember correctly, William was very…passionate.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow. While Spike was certainly very handsome, and she would bet that he’d be quite good in bed, she wasn’t so sure she wanted anyone even remotely connected to Buffy. “I’ll give it some thought,” Anya said noncommittally, knowing that if she gave Hallie an unequivocal no, it would only egg the other vengeance demon on.

 

Besides, she was fairly certain that Hallie still wanted to get even with the Slayer for that little debacle at her birthday party. Even if Buffy weren’t in love with Spike, it would still sting if she knew that he was sleeping with someone else.

 

Anya couldn’t count how many times she’d had women call vengeance down upon men they didn’t love, simply because they couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having them.

 

“Suit yourself,” Hallie replied, teleporting out of the Magic Box just as the bell over the door rang.

 

Anya’s eyes widened when she saw who was standing in the doorway. “Giles. What are you doing here? Was I supposed to know you were coming?”

 

“No.” Giles looked around the shop. “I—I was worried.”

 

“About the shop?” Anya asked. “I know I’ve been gone, but it wasn’t any longer than I was planning on being gone for my honeymoon.”

 

“Yes, well…” He trailed off uncertainly. “I was worried about you, actually. When I spoke with Buffy the other day, she said that no one had heard from you, and I wasn’t sure you were going to return after—well, after everything. I thought I’d better come see to the Magic Box in your absence.”

 

Anya wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted that he thought she would abandon her duty. She might be a vengeance demon again, but she had no intentions of leaving the world of retail behind. After all, you never knew when someone would walk through the door, looking for a curse or a hex. Anya was good at multi-tasking.

 

“I’m not leaving the shop,” she replied firmly. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re looking well,” Giles said. “When I heard, I wasn’t sure that you would be okay, but you look—very well.”

 

Anya blushed. “You can thank Spike for that.”

 

“Spike?” Giles asked. “You and he…”

 

“He made a wish for me,” Anya said, beaming. “He wished that Xander would feel my pain so I wouldn’t have to. It’s probably one of the best wishes I’ve heard in a long time. There’s a great sense of justice, isn’t there? Especially coming from a vampire. Well, I guess he’s not a vampire any longer, but he was when he made the wish.”

 

Giles was forced to sit down at the table in the center of the shop. “Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning,” he suggested. He rubbed tired-looking eyes and muttered, “I knew I never should have left.”

 

~~~~~

 

For the second time in as many days, Buffy spotted Spike in a place she didn’t expect to see him. This time, however, instead of it being on her porch after dark, he was exiting an office on Main Street in the middle of the afternoon, Tara and Dawn at his side.

 

And he was standing in the full sunlight—without flinching, or smoking, or bursting into flames.

 

Buffy hadn’t thought it was possible, but Spike was even hotter in the daylight.

 

She could tell when he’d spotted her, because the expression on his face changed dramatically from good humor to dread. That was something of a change; Buffy didn’t know whether to be thankful or hurt.

 

“Hi, guys,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “What are you up to?” Buffy was looking at Dawn when she asked, not at all happy that her sister had apparently hidden this new state of affairs from her.

 

“We’re helping William with his apartment hunt,” Dawn replied, her chin tilting up obstinately.

 

Buffy stared at him. “So it’s William now, huh?”

 

“Buffy,” Tara began. “Maybe we should find a place to sit and talk.”

 

“Why?” Spike asked. “Buffy is an intelligent woman. I think she can see for herself what has occurred.”

 

Buffy took a step backwards. “There are still a few blank spots,” she said, her voice even, although she had to fight to keep it that way.

 

She wasn’t quite sure why it hurt so badly to see that much disdain in Spike’s eyes.

 

“I made a wish—for you,” Spike said, his voice cold. “Now I’m human, and you got what you wanted.”

 

“What I wanted?” Buffy echoed. She wasn’t sure what he meant, since she was positive that she hadn’t wanted Spike to be human. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, since it was impossible.

 

“You wanted me to get over you,” he replied. “You said to find a way to move past what I felt, so I did. I hope it’s a relief for you, Buffy.”

 

He stalked off down the street, and Tara shot her an apologetic look before she hurried to catch up, laying a restraining hand on his arm. Buffy watched as he touched her hand, giving it a squeeze.

 

“I have to go,” Dawn said. “I promised I’d give him my opinion about this next apartment we’re looking at.”

 

“You knew,” Buffy accused.

 

“He didn’t want you to know, Buffy,” Dawn replied. “I wasn’t going to break my promise.” She looked down the street at the rapidly receding figures. “I have to go,” she repeated. “I’ll see you later tonight. Tara and William will walk me home!” she called over her shoulder.

 

Buffy watched as Dawn ran to catch up, looping her arm through Spike’s. Her sister said something that made him laugh, and Buffy realized that she hadn’t heard him laugh in a very long time.

 

Ending things with Spike had been the right thing to do, of that Buffy was certain, but she felt as though she’d just had the rug pulled out from under her feet. She still didn’t understand what exactly had happened, but more than that, she realized that every barrier to a relationship with Spike had just been removed in one fell swoop.

 

Except that now _he_ didn’t want to be with _her_.

 

Buffy gave a bitter little laugh. Her life was just full of irony.


	5. Moving On

“You were almost kind, you were almost true/Don’t let me see that other side of you/You have learned in time that you must be cruel/I’ll have to wait to get the best of you/Poisoning everything you say/Don’t you, don’t you?/Wonder what difference does it make…Either way/You were almost kind, you were almost true/Why give away that other side of you/Happens every time, so it must be true…Were you ever kind, were you always cruel?/Who’s ever seen that other side of you?” ~Guster, “Either Way”

“I really like it,” Dawn announced, as though that was all William needed to hear. In a way, he supposed that it was; other than Dawn’s, the only opinion that mattered was Tara’s. 

He glanced at Tara. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” she said, looking around at the spacious interior. “It’s a really good deal, too.”

William turned to look at the apartment manager. “Could we have a moment, please?”

The woman smiled. “Of course. I’ll be right outside.”

Once she had gone, William turned to Tara. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Tara said quickly. “There’s no reason not to take it, William. It’s a nice place, and you’re getting a good deal.”

He nodded, finding the bare white walls and neutral carpet depressing; there was so little character in the straight lines and right angles. William could remember his own home, filled with comfortable furniture and warm colors; this place was a far cry from his childhood home, or even the dank crypt he’d yet to empty out. “Then I will take it, if you think that I should.”

“It’s up to you,” Tara replied.

William shrugged. “I need a place; this will do. I suppose I’ll need furniture as well.”

“Oh!” Dawn said excitedly. “Can I help you pick it out?”

William had a feeling that now that Dawn had decided to be his friend, he was going to be hard-pressed to get rid of her—not that he wanted to. “As long as your sister doesn’t mind you spending so much time with me,” he replied.

Dawn sighed but didn’t argue. “Fine. I don’t see what Buffy could object to, though. Not with you being able to go out in the daylight, and all that.”

“Just be sure to ask her,” William ordered. “What next?”

Tara was the one to answer. “You’ll have to fill out the application, and she’ll probably want references. Since you don’t have any, we’ll have to figure something else out.”

“You could co-sign,” Dawn suggested.

Tara shook her head. “I don’t have enough assets to co-sign an apartment application, Dawn. There’s no way they’d decide that I would be able to pay William’s rent on top of mine.”

“What about as a roommate?” she asked. “You guys could live together.”

William watched Tara’s face carefully for her reaction; he liked the idea, but he didn’t know that she would want to share an apartment. 

Tara shook her head. “I don’t think so, Dawnie. I’m sure that William wants his own space.”

They left after that, taking the application from the apartment manager with a promise to drop it off within the next couple of days. Dawn went home, leaving Spike and Tara to walk to his crypt to pick up clean clothing for him.

Once William had thrown most of his belongings into an old duffel bag, they headed back to her apartment. There wasn’t much that he’d wanted to keep. Nothing seemed to quite suit him anymore; even the clothing belonged to another man, but William wasn’t going to let it go to waste when it fit him and was perfectly serviceable.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to share expenses,” William offered once they’d reached Tara’s apartment. He hadn’t wanted to discuss the possibility of sharing a flat outside where anyone might overhear them.

Tara hesitated. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

William frowned. “Why not? Unless you’d rather not live with me. I would understand if you don’t.”

“What if you want to have someone over?” Tara asked.

William frowned. “There are two bedrooms, and I’m planning on getting a sofa,” he pointed out. “If we do have an overnight guest, they would have somewhere to sleep.”

Tara’s lips twitched suspiciously. “No, William. If you want to have someone spend the night.”

“Like Dawn?” he asked, still not quite getting it. “I don’t think Buffy would allow that.” At Tara’s pointed look, he reconsidered, his eyes widening as he realized exactly what she was talking about. “Oh!”

She laughed gently at the look on his face. “You might not want a roommate around then, you know.”

William shook his head. “I don’t think so. I can’t see myself doing that.”

Tara’s gentle touch on his hand was comforting. “Why not?”

“In the first place, who would want to?” William asked. “And in the second, I can’t see myself having relations with a woman I don’t care for, and I have no interest in falling in love again. After everything…I won’t put myself in that position.”

“You might feel that way now, but that could easily change,” Tara pointed out. “If you meet the right person—”

“That will be a decision for a later date,” William said firmly. “If you are concerned about bringing someone home, however, I would understand. I—”

Tara shook her head. “No, not really. I imagine that we could work that out.” She frowned, thinking about the possibility. “I’m subletting this apartment until next month,” Tara said. “After that, I would have needed a new place anyway. I had thought…” She trailed off, not saying what she had thought, although William could hazard a guess. “This might just be the perfect opportunity,” she finished.

“Are you certain?” William asked. “If you’re unsure, I don’t want you to agree simply to spare my feelings. I am quite capable of handling the truth.”

“I know you are,” Tara replied. “I think it would be nice to have a roommate; I’d gotten so used to it that living by myself has been kind of lonely.”

William’s smile was genuine. “Thank you.”

He was terribly grateful not to feel so alone; it was the first time he’d had a true friend, the first time he’d been able to count on another person.

~~~~~

Giles took a deep breath after Anya finished the entire story. “So you’re telling me that Spike made two wishes, which resulted in you being happy and him being human?”

Anya nodded, impressed at his ability to put it so succinctly. “Exactly.”

“Have you seen him?” Giles asked.

“Who?”

“Spike.”

Anya shook her head. “No. I don’t know where he went after he made the wishes, although I can imagine it was quite a surprise. I know that Spike didn’t expect for it to be granted.”

Giles began polishing his glasses for what would be the tenth time during the course of their conversation. “I can imagine not. I wonder how he’s handling it, and what he’s like,” Giles mused. “It must have been rather difficult to deal with.”

“It was.” Anya still remembered the disorientation and dissatisfaction that had come with being human again; after so long as a demon, she hadn’t remembered even the most basic of things, although she thought that Spike might have an easier time of it. His human self would at least be older than the teenaged body in which she’d found herself stuck, and from what Hallie had said, Spike had money now. Probably more than he’d had before, since he’d been perpetually broke as a vampire.

“I’m sorry,” Giles said. “Of course you would know.” He stood. “I should give Buffy a call and let her know that I’m in town. I’d like to see her while I’m here.”

“How long are you going to be here?” Anya asked, feeling a curious lurch in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Giles leaving again. She’d missed working with him while he’d been gone. Anya hadn’t realized how much she’d enjoyed his presence, even when he was annoying her.

Giles shook his head. “I have no idea. I’d thought to stay at least until you returned, but you’re obviously here, and there’s really no reason for me not to go back to England.”

“Of course there is!” Anya objected, before she could think better of it. 

Giles frowned. “What would that be?”

Anya didn’t know that she wanted to tell him that she had missed him; while Giles had mentioned being worried about her, he’d said nothing of wanting or missing her company. “We all missed you,” she finally said, deciding that it was a nice compromise.

His stern features softened. “I missed everyone here, too.” Giles glanced around the interior of the shop. “I suppose I could stay for a week or two; there’s nothing pressing in England that would require my presence.”

Anya didn’t question the fact that, as happy as she’d been since Spike made his wish, Giles’ decision made her that much happier.

~~~~~

Just getting through the day was a struggle. Xander normally enjoyed his work, but he found himself taking frequent breaks in order to keep himself under control. There were moments when he would remember Anya and it would all hit him again.

“What’s up?” Mike called as he was heading to the Porta-Potty for the fifth time that day. “You not feeling good?”

Xander shook his head. “Must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me last night. I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you take off early?” Mike suggested. “I’ll cover for you.”

Xander nodded gratefully. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

He left the site, thankful for the reprieve, although he knew that he couldn’t take too many more opportunities like this; he couldn’t afford to lose his job on top of everything else. The worst part was that, knowing how Anya felt, Xander knew that there was nothing he could do to make it better. Before, he’d thought that maybe he could fix things. He’d figure out the right words to say, the right thing to do, and it would all get better.

Now he knew that it wasn’t going to get better; Anya hated him. Hell, Xander hated himself.

After what Buffy had said, about not feeling as though she could handle it all, Xander had a better idea of why she might have been acting so strangely the last few months. When nothing in your life felt right, when it all felt meaningless—as though you’d destroyed everything good, everything worth living for—well, he got it now.

Not that Buffy had destroyed anything, but the principle was the same.

Although his apartment was less than inviting without Anya waiting for him, Xander really didn’t have another place to go. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, and he didn’t want to endure anyone’s attempts to cheer him up, or to inflict his gloom on the others.

Glancing at the clock, he noted that it wasn’t quite three in the afternoon; that made it a little early for a drink, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Xander popped the tab on a can of beer and settled down in front of the television, planning on spending the rest of the day on his couch, trying to lose himself.

The knock on the door had him sighing, but Xander knew that he ought to open it. If it was Buffy or one of the others needing his help, then he probably ought to go, if only because it was another instance of not wanting to screw something else up.

Xander couldn’t afford to lose his friends, just like he couldn’t afford to lose his job. They were the only things holding him together at the moment.

“Hey,” Buffy said as he opened the door. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better,” he admitted. “What’s up?”

She shrugged. “I came by to see how you were, and to see if you want to give me a hand with patrol tonight. It might help to get out of the house.”

Xander hesitated, torn between agreeing and telling her that all he wanted was to be alone. “I guess I could go.”

“Great,” Buffy replied. “You want to get something to eat?”

He didn’t; then again, if he stayed in his apartment, Xander knew that he’d end up drinking, which would only result in his getting drunk, and he wouldn’t be much use to Buffy then. “Sure. Let’s get out of here.”

~~~~~

Willow opened the door for Giles with a big grin. “Hey!”

“Hello, Willow,” he replied, stepping inside and regarding her with concern. She reminded him of the girl he’d known years ago, before she’d begun dabbling in dark magic. “You’re looking well.”

“I’m trying,” she replied. “It’s been hard to stay away from the magic, but it’s getting easier.”

Giles wasn’t certain that staying away from magic was going to solve Willow’s problems; more likely, it would only mean that, when she fell off the wagon, it would be a spectacular fall. At the same time, he didn’t want to belittle the strides she’d made, if only because he remembered what it was like moving away from using magic to further your own goals.

That kind of power tended to get its hooks into you, until it was nearly impossible to leave it behind.

“If you need any help, you know I’ll be happy to lend a hand,” Giles said.

Her eyes went distant. “I’m fine, but I’ll let you know.”

“Of course,” he said. “Is Buffy back yet?”

“She’s out with Xander,” Willow said. “The wish is making things hard on him, and Buffy’s worried that he’s going to get himself into trouble.” She hesitated, then added, “Plus, I think Spike’s reaction is bothering her.”

Giles’ eyebrows went up, and he followed her back into the kitchen. “Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t,” Willow said. “He’s staying with Tara, though, and Buffy ran into them earlier today.”

Giles wasn’t expecting that. “He’s staying with Tara?”

“They’re friends,” Willow explained, making a face. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for him to be staying with her, since we don’t know what he was like as a human, but—”

“He’s nice,” Dawn said from the doorway. “And if you guys had really known Spike, that wouldn’t be such a surprise.” She looked at Giles. “Hi.”

Giles was a little surprised at the coolness of her greeting. “Hello, Dawn. How have you been?”

“Things have been crappy,” she replied bluntly. “So, how long are you staying?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I imagine I’ll stay as long as I’m needed,” Giles said.

Dawn gave him a look so full of skepticism that he was taken aback. “Yeah, right. We needed you before, and you didn’t stick around. Why would you stay now?”

“Dawnie,” Willow chided her.

Dawn rounded on her. “What?” she demanded. “Why should I care if Giles is back if he’s just going to leave again? That’s what happens: people leave, and then they expect you to deal with things you can’t handle. I’m tired of pretending that everything is okay. It’s not.”

“Dawn,” Giles began. “If you’ll tell me what’s been going on, I can—”

“Leave again?” she asked snidely. “No, thanks.”

Giles could hear her heavy footfalls as she ran up the stairs; stomped up the stairs, to be more accurate. Dawn was obviously not pleased to see him. “What else has been going on, Willow?” he asked.

Willow hesitated. “It’s been bad,” she admitted, “but nothing that we couldn’t handle.”

“Somehow I’m not sure I believe that,” Giles replied. “Why don’t you start by telling me why Dawn is so upset?”

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think I know the entire story, but I’ll tell you what I do know.”

~~~~~

Buffy dropped Xander back off at his place after patrol, glad that he seemed to be in a slightly better frame of mind after an evening of fighting demons. In a way, it had been just like old times, with her slaying and Xander providing the occasional quip; it had been a long time since she’d patrolled with her friends, and Buffy had appreciated the company.

Particularly since Xander’s presence had helped her to keep her mind off of Spike’s absence.

It was only now beginning to hit her that Spike was gone—really gone, as in never coming back. The man who had taken his place was not Spike, and Buffy would never see him again; it was a disquieting thought.

Knowing that Spike wasn’t out there, in love with her—obsessed with her—made it easier to remember how he’d sat with her when she’d first returned; he’d made it so easy to be with him. 

Not having to worry about Spike and his obsession should have been a comfort, but it wasn’t; in reality, it hurt. The expression on William’s face had hurt, as had finally realizing that he didn’t want her anymore—although not because Buffy still wanted him. She felt the same way she had after seeing him at Xander and Anya’s wedding with his date; jealous and angry that he was trying to move on. Maybe she didn’t want him, but Buffy didn’t want anyone else to have him, either.

And yes, she did know just how irrational that was.

Buffy wearily climbed the few steps to her front door, pushing all thoughts of Spike and his demise out of her mind. There was nothing she could do about it now, anyway; even if there had been some way for them to be together, that point was moot, and William very obviously didn’t feel like giving her a chance.

Buffy honestly couldn’t say that she’d have taken the chance if given one.

Opening the front door as quietly as possible, Buffy slipped inside, not wanting to disturb any of the house’s sleeping occupants. It was late, and she knew that Dawn and Willow both had to be up early the next morning. 

“Hello, Buffy.”

The voice startled her, and she whirled to face its source; she hadn’t expected to see Giles, and certainly hadn’t expected him to simply show up at her house. “Giles?”

“How are you?”

Buffy stared at him, uncertain of her answer. There was part of her that wanted to lie, to tell him that she had been just fine without him; there was another part of her that wanted to tell him everything.

“I’m okay,” she finally said. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” he replied. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this.”

“No, of course not,” Buffy was quick to assure him. “When did you get here?”

“Earlier today,” Giles said. “I heard about Xander and Anya, and I became concerned about the shop. I wasn’t certain what I’d find when I got here.”

Buffy laughed, but there was an edge of bitterness to the sound. “I’ll bet you didn’t expect this.”

“No, I should say not.” He followed her into the living room and sat down next to her on the couch. “Willow told me a little bit about what’s been going on.”

“What did she tell you?” she asked. If Willow had already told Giles everything, then she wouldn’t have to fill him in, which would be a relief.

Giles gave her a look full of sympathy. “About your job, for one thing. Why on earth are you working there?”

“It was just supposed to be until school started up again,” Buffy replied, leaning her head back against the couch, feeling horribly tired. “And then I didn’t get my application in on time, so I got stuck there.”

Giles frowned. “You don’t have to be stuck there, Buffy. There are other options.”

“Like what?” Buffy demanded. “I’m a college dropout, Giles. There aren’t any other options.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said sharply. “You mean that you’re not willing to look for other alternatives because you’re too busy wallowing in your own misery.”

Buffy stared at him with wide eyes, remembering that Spike had something quite similar. “Giles—”

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Giles interrupted her. “I realize that I told you that I wanted you to make your own decisions, but I never meant…” He trailed off. “I’m sorry.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You—you’re probably right. Sp—someone else said almost the same thing to me not that long ago.”

“‘Someone’ meaning Spike?” Giles asked. “Don’t tell me that we actually agree on something; I’m not sure I could bear it.”

Buffy laughed a little, knowing that had been his intent. “He accused me of being a martyr.”

“Is it true?” Giles asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t think it was, but then…” Buffy trailed off, remembering that other reality where her parents had been alive, and she had been insane. There were days when she wondered if she’d made the right choice.

“Willow said you’ve seen him,” Giles said, apparently sensing her need to change the subject.

Buffy nodded. “Earlier today. He was looking for an apartment with Tara.” She gave Giles a look that was full of wry humor. “Spike—William—is apparently over me in a big way, so we don’t have to worry about him being obsessed with me anymore.”

Giles gave her a pointed look. “And you’re fine with that?”

“Of course,” Buffy said quickly. “It’s one less thing for me to worry about.” She didn’t want to talk about her twisted relationship with Spike right now. Giles didn’t need to know that she’d been sleeping with Spike. Buffy had disappointed him enough for one evening. “How long are you staying?”

“At least a week or two,” Giles replied. “I want to be sure that Anya is okay to continue running the Magic Box, and I’d like to have a chance to visit.” He hesitated, then added, “I also think that something ought to be done about your financial situation. You might be of age, but Dawn is not, and your father should be contributing to her support.”

“Good luck,” Buffy muttered bitterly. “Dad’s pretty much gone AWOL at this point.”

Giles grimaced. “Perhaps, but it’s worth checking into. In any case, there’s nothing in England that would demand my immediate attention, so I can stay.”

“That would be good,” Buffy admitted. “I’ve missed you.”

Giles smiled and touched her shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “I’ve missed you as well.”


	6. The Weight of Regret

**“Some days I’m bursting at the seams/With all my half remembered dreams/And then it shoots me down again/I feel the dampness as it creeps/I hear you coughing in your sleep/Beneath a broken window pane…On winter trees the fruit of rain/Is hanging trembling in the branches/Like a thousand diamond buds/Waiting there in every pause/That old familiar fear that claws you/Tells you nothing ain’t no good/Pulling back you see it all/Down here so laughable and small/Hardly a quiver in the dirt/This ain’t no love that’s guiding me.” ~David Gray, “Ain’t No Love”**

 

Getting the apartment set up had been a welcome distraction for William. Although both Tara and Dawn had school, they’d helped as much as possible, and he had been too busy to think much. Now, however, he was mostly finished with everything, which left him with little to do but think.

 

William was bored enough to consider writing poetry again.

 

Even though there was no real need for him to work, at least on a financial level, William was discovering that merely sitting around wasn’t enough. Although there were those who might have believed that Spike had done little enough as a vampire, the truth was that Spike typically had something going every night. If he wasn’t carousing or playing poker or hustling people at the pool table—or any number of similar, less than savory activities—he was with Buffy. Or following Buffy, or patrolling with Buffy.

 

These days, all of those activities were out of the question, and so William found himself at loose ends. He had no idea what kind of employment he might want to seek, or what he might be suited for now. It would still be a couple of weeks before Tara moved in, since she had to wait until the regular tenant returned from her semester abroad, and so he hadn’t been able to broach the topic with her yet.

 

It was on a day when the weather was too beautiful to stay indoors that William ventured out for a walk. The midday sun was warm on his back, and he was grateful that he’d allowed Dawn and Tara to talk him into buying new clothes; his old black on black ensemble would have been too hot for a day like that. The blue jeans and white Oxford were much better suited to the California spring weather.

 

He was strolling up the street, giving some thought to getting something to eat, when he heard a familiar voice exclaim, “Good Lord! Spike?”

 

William still answered to that name. He remembered everything, after all, and there were times when he still felt like Spike. Turning, William saw a middle-aged man coming out of a shop just off of the main thoroughfare where he’d been strolling. He frowned; the man looked familiar, but he couldn’t place the name with the face.

 

The man came out to meet him. “They told me, but I suppose I didn’t truly believe it until just now.”

 

The name came to him, and William’s eyes narrowed. If he remembered correctly, Buffy’s Watcher had gone back to England, and he was a little confused to see him back in Sunnydale. “Mr. Giles, yes?”

 

“Of course,” Giles responded, sounding a little surprised. “I—of course. Tara said that your memories weren’t completely clear.”

 

“They’re clear enough,” William said, a bite to his tone. “What can I do for you?”

 

Giles looked rather disconcerted at the abrupt response. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you. Your transformation from vampire to human is unprecedented.”

 

William hesitated, not knowing that he wanted to talk about it; however, it seemed impolite to refuse. “Certainly.”

 

He followed Giles back into the shop, surprised to see Anya. This was the Magic Box, and she worked at the Magic Box, which hadn’t crossed his mind when he’d watched Giles come out of the shop.

 

“Hello, Spike,” Anya said cheerfully. “How are you doing?”

 

“It’s William now,” he replied. “And I’m doing quite well.” William hesitated. “I had been meaning to ask you about the wish that I made,” he began. “You said that you could only grant one.”

 

Anya nodded. “Yes, but Hallie was still here. She thought that she owed you something, so she granted your second wish.”

 

William went still; he immediately knew who Anya was talking about. He had seen Halfrek at Buffy’s birthday party, and although he had recognized that he’d seen her somewhere before, he hadn’t known where or who she was to him.

 

He remembered now, all too clearly.

 

“She owed me nothing,” William said coldly. “She should have left well enough alone.”

 

Anya gave him a sympathetic look. “Are you not happy being human? I know it took me a while to get used to, and I’m certainly glad that I’m a demon again.”

 

William caught the pained expression on Giles’ face, though he didn’t know why the other man would be thrown by Anya’s gratitude for the return of her demonic powers. “It’s fine,” William said, not wanting to air his concerns in front of these strangers; while Anya had been nice enough to him, he still remembered the disdain that Giles had expressed for Spike. William had no desire to find out if that translated to his current incarnation as well.

 

Anya stiffened. “I have to go,” she announced suddenly, and then she was gone.

 

William frowned at the spot where she’d been. “What was that about?”

 

Giles sighed. “Anya’s duties call her away now and then,” he explained. “Would you care to have a seat?”

 

William wasn’t sure that he would like that at all, but he sat at the round table in the center of the store without protest. He could always leave whenever he liked.

 

“How are you doing with this change?” Giles asked, with genuine concern. “I can imagine that it would be rather bewildering.”

 

William relaxed slightly when he heard the real sympathy in Giles’ voice. “The first night was the worst,” he admitted. “It’s been easier since then, although I’m still trying to figure out what my purpose might be.”

 

He was a little surprised that he’d admitted that last bit to the other man, but Giles merely nodded. “I can understand that,” was Giles’ noncommittal reply. “If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

 

William looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t understand. I thought that you hated Spike.”

 

“You’re not Spike any longer,” Giles pointed out.

 

William stood, suddenly angry. “I am more Spike than not. Perhaps I have a heartbeat and a soul, but those are meaningless.”

 

“They aren’t meaningless,” Giles objected. “You have a chance to do something worthwhile with yourself, William.”

 

“And Spike did not? Is that what you think?” William turned, disgusted. “If you think that the sum of a man is in the possession of a soul or the beating of his heart, you’re a fool. A man is the sum total of his actions. If you’ll excuse me.”

 

He glanced up, ready to leave, surprised to see Buffy and Willow standing just inside the door to the shop; William hadn’t even heard the bell above the door jangle. His eyes met Buffy’s, and he saw something there that he hadn’t expected—sorrow.

 

William thought that she would have been glad to be rid of Spike and his obsession.

 

“I should go,” he said, brushing past the two girls as he left the Magic Box. Dawn and Tara had apparently been following them, because he saw them as he exited the building.

 

“William?” Tara called. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Mr. Giles and I simply had a disagreement, and I really ought to be going.”

 

Tara hesitated. “I promised Willow that I’d have dinner with her tonight; otherwise—”

 

“Think nothing of it,” William said. “I’ll be quite all right.”

 

As he made his way down the street, back to his apartment, William told himself that it was true; he would be just fine, given a little time.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stared at William’s retreating back, then turned back to Giles. “What was that all about?” she demanded.

 

Giles sighed. “I offered my help.”

 

“And that got you the cold shoulder?” Willow asked. “He must be even more prickly than Spike was.”

 

Buffy supposed that they were all beginning to think of Spike and William as different people.

 

“William and Spike are the same person,” Dawn objected, having heard the tail end of Willow’s observation.

 

Well, okay. Apparently, not everyone thought that way.

 

“What did you say, Giles?” Buffy asked.

 

Giles sighed. “I said that a soul and a heartbeat made a difference; William seemed to disagree.”

 

“He’s right,” Tara said softly. “William really isn’t so different from Spike, if you knew both of them.”

 

When Giles looked at Buffy, she raised her hands defensively. “Don’t look at me. I haven’t said more than two words to him since Spike made that wish.” She looked at Tara questioningly. “He is okay, isn’t he?”

 

“I think so,” Tara said, reluctant to offer any information that William hadn’t given her leave to share. “There’s an adjustment period, of course, but I think he’s handling it as well as anybody could.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Dawn asked impatiently. “He’s going nuts, and he doesn’t want anybody to know.”

 

“How do you know, Dawnie?” Buffy asked.

 

Her sister rolled her eyes expressively. “Because I’ve been hanging out with him. How would you feel if everything you were suddenly went away? It sucks, but William’s trying to deal with it.”

 

Tara sighed. “That might be true, but there’s nothing we can do about it unless William decides that he wants our help.”

 

Buffy thought about Tara’s comment for a long time that day and the next. It had been really nice having Giles in town; it had given her one more way to avoid thinking about Spike. Plus, Giles had been kind enough to help her file the paperwork with the court to order her father to pay child support for Dawn. Her Watcher had also suggested that she actually go in to see the social worker assigned to her case and seize the bull by the horns, so to speak.

 

The new caseworker had been nice, and refreshingly sympathetic; Buffy had walked out of their meeting feeling like she didn’t have to worry about someone swooping in and taking custody. The social worker had pointed out that it might be better if their father had custody of Dawn, but had also stated that, if he wasn’t willing to take it, then Buffy was the next best candidate.

 

Giles had also convinced her to quit her job at the Doublemeat Palace, telling her that he’d help out with the mortgage, among other things, until she found something better. While there weren’t a lot of places that would hire her in Sunnydale, Buffy had had one interview at one of the nicer restaurants in town, and it looked like she’d be able to get a job there. She’d also managed to get her application for the fall semester at UC Sunnydale, and it appeared as though she’d be able to start school again then.

 

In short, her life was going better than it had been in months—which made the edge of melancholy that accompanied her all the more inexplicable.

 

Thinking about Tara’s comment as it related to William, however, made Buffy realize that she missed Spike. She still didn’t regret breaking up with him, but she missed his company on patrol, and on her back porch.

 

Buffy regretted everything about how she’d handled their relationship. She’d had sex with him because she’d wanted to feel, wanted him to make her feel, and had known that he would tolerate everything she dished out without complaint.

 

Or nearly without complaint. The one time he’d really tried to get in her way, she’d nearly killed him, and Buffy did regret that.

 

She kept remembering the night they’d spent in his crypt, right before she’d hurt him so badly in the alleyway outside the police station. Buffy had almost liked him then, could see the possibility of loving him. There had been moments like that, and those were the moments that she remembered now that Spike was beyond her reach.

 

That was why she mourned him quietly—because even if William did unbend enough to ask someone for the help that Dawn insisted that he needed, he wouldn’t come to her.

 

~~~~~~

 

“Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight,” Willow said. “I’ve missed you.”

 

Tara smiled, feeling a little uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted or needed was for Willow to put any pressure on her regarding their relationship. “I’ve missed you, too,” she replied honestly. “But I’ve been busy with finals, and trying to help William.”

 

Willow nodded, and Tara could see from her expression that she was dying to ask a question. “What is it?” she asked.

 

“What’s he like?” Willow asked. “I mean, you said he’s like Spike, but…” She paused. “You like him.”

 

“I liked Spike, too,” Tara replied. “William is—he needs a friend. I know you’ve been in the same position before.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Willow said. “It’s just—never mind. It’s not important. How did finals go?”

 

“Good,” Tara replied. “I think I passed all my classes, anyway. I’ll have to wait for grades to come out to know for sure how well I did, though.”

 

Willow smiled. “Yeah, sometimes it’s hard to know how things went.” She paused, fidgeting in her seat. “Look, I know you told me that you were subletting until the end of the semester, and I wanted to tell you that Buffy’s completely okay with you moving back in. If you wanted to.”

 

This was what Tara had been afraid of; Willow’s reaction to William when he’d first begun staying with her had cautioned her against jumping back into their relationship, and this was only reinforcing that anxiety. Because Willow still showed signs of wanting to control their relationship, the last thing she needed was for Willow to begin to exert pressure to move their reconciliation along faster.

 

Tara wasn’t even sure that it was going to work out in the long run, even though she was willing to give it a try.

 

“I can’t,” she said gently.

 

Willow swallowed. “Oh.”

 

“I’m not ready to move back in, Willow,” Tara explained. “I’ve already made other arrangements.”

 

To her credit, Willow didn’t try to pressure her. “Okay. I—I understand if you’re not ready. I want to give you whatever time you need, because I get why you would have a hard time trusting me after everything. I do. If you need anything, though, you know you can come to me, right?”

 

Tara nodded, saying gently, “I know. It’s just that I’m not ready, and William can still use the company. Plus, it helped him to have another name on the rental agreement.”

 

“Oh. Sure,” Willow said, obviously uncomfortable with the mention of William; their last argument had been prompted by a discussion of him, something she obviously remembered. “It’s just that I don’t know what to do, Tara.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I don’t know what more I can do to make you trust me,” Willow said. “I want to do whatever it takes to prove that I won’t go back to the magic.”

 

Tara frowned, saying a quick, silent prayer for patience. “It’s not about staying away from the magic, Willow; it’s about not misusing it. If I knew that you wouldn’t use magic to make things go your way, if I knew that you would treat it with the respect it deserves, I wouldn’t have any worries.”

 

Willow frowned. “I don’t understand.”

 

Tara knew that she didn’t; that was most of their problem, really. “I know. I’m sure it’s just going to take time, but I can’t tell you how much. Please don’t try to push it.”

 

“I won’t,” Willow said earnestly. “I want you to trust me again, Tara.”

 

Tara wanted to trust her; she just wasn’t sure that she could.

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you sure you can’t stay any longer?” Buffy asked.

 

Giles wished that he could. Being back in Sunnydale felt a lot like being home, in a way that being in England hadn’t, strangely enough. He no longer felt as though his presence was a stumbling block to Buffy dealing with things; maybe it never had been. Giles suspected that much of Buffy’s apathy before his departure had been due to her desperate desire to hide the fact that she’d been in heaven, and not some sort of hell.

 

Buffy had been so desperate to protect her friends from the truth of their folly that she’d let everything else go.

 

Still, he didn’t have a choice at the moment. Giles still had a flat in Bath, and he had his duties with the Council. There was the possibility that he would be able to relocate to Sunnydale on a permanent basis, but it was going to take some time and effort.

 

“I’m certain,” Giles replied. “I will be back soon, though, and I’ll expect frequent updates.”

 

“Ditto from my end,” Buffy said. “I’ll let you know where things are with Dad.”

 

“Good,” Giles said. “Because if you can’t get to him through normal channels, I might be able to pull a few strings.”

 

She hugged him hard. “I wish I could take you to the airport, but—”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “I’ll be just fine.”

 

Buffy left soon afterwards for her shift at her new job; Giles hoped that it was better than working at the Doublemeat Palace, although he certainly didn’t see how it wouldn’t be. He wondered if Dawn was going to deign to say goodbye to him before he left; she’d mostly ignored him while he’d been there, obviously punishing him both for leaving and for his remarks to Spike.

 

Giles wished he’d handled that interaction better. He’d been doing a lot of thinking about William’s words, and he’d found that he couldn’t disagree. If Spike had been changing even before becoming human again, then Giles probably ought to have done more to acknowledge those efforts; good ought always to be encouraged, even when it came from an unexpected source.

 

He probably ought to have done a better job of maintaining contact with Dawn and Buffy, as well. Although he wasn’t their father, he was the closest thing to it, and they didn’t have anyone else looking out for their best interests.

 

Giles had forgotten somewhere along the way that even adults needed guidance at times; he himself certainly did. The only difference was that he didn’t often know where to get it.

 

Of course, he’d already promised Anya that he would return soon to help her with inventory; he’d also given her leave to hire help, since she was frequently called away on vengeance-related business and couldn’t control when she would have to leave.

 

She had surprised him with her kiss, and her quick explanation that she’d wanted to know if kissing him felt as good with her memories intact as it had without. Giles had, on occasion, wondered the same thing, and he hadn’t been at all surprised to discover that her lips were just as warm, just as soft, and just as tempting.

 

He was going to be thinking about her kiss for a good long while, and it gave him one more reason to hurry back to Sunnydale, even though he had invited Anya to drop in whenever she felt like it.

 

With her ability to teleport, that wasn’t a problem.

 

The sounding of a car horn from outside broke him out of his thoughts, and Giles realized that his taxi had arrived. He began gathering his luggage, then immediately dropped it again as Dawn came hurtling down the stairs to embrace him. “Come back soon,” she ordered imperiously.

 

“I will,” he promised, putting his arms around her awkwardly. It was only slightly easier to be openly affectionate with Buffy; Dawn wasn’t his Slayer, and was therefore no real relation to him.

 

And yet he still cared.

 

Dawn released him just as abruptly as she’d hugged him, picking up one of the dropped bags and carrying it out to put it in the trunk. “Have a safe trip,” she said, before disappearing back inside without waiting for his answer.

 

Giles looked at the familiar house and sighed, wishing that regret wasn’t such a heavy burden.


	7. Reparations

**“How I wish I could surrender my soul;/Shed the clothes that become my skin;/See the liar that burns within my needing./How I wish I’d chosen darkness from cold./How I wish I had screamed out loud,/Instead I’ve found no meaning./I guess it’s time I run far, far away; find comfort in pain/All pleasure’s the same: it just keeps me from trouble./Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray./I’ve heard what they say, but I’m not here for trouble./It’s more than just words: it’s just tears and rain./How I wish I could walk through the doors of my mind;/Hold memory close at hand,/Help me understand the years./How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell./How I wish I could save my soul./It’s so cold from fear.” ~James Blunt, “Tears and Rain”**

 

“Buffy.”

 

His eyes were so cold; Buffy could hardly believe that it was the same man in front of her. Dawn had been right, though—Spike and William were the same person.

 

She hated coming to him, hated having to ask him for anything at all. Still, she had a demon to kill, and Xander and Willow were coming with her as backup. Even if Willow couldn’t do magic, she could at least hold a crossbow; Buffy just needed someone else there to provide a distraction.

 

That meant that someone needed to be with Dawn, however, and Tara and Spike were the only people she trusted.

 

No; it was William now. She had to remember that.

 

“I need a favor,” Buffy said, forging ahead before he could refuse without hearing her request. “I’ve got a demon to take care of tonight, and I need someone to stay with Dawn.”

 

His expression softened considerably. “Of course. I’ll be happy to stay with her.”

 

“Thank you,” she said. “Look, I can probably pay you.”

 

“No.” William shook his head, and Buffy could see that he’d let his hair grow in the past weeks; it was longer now, and curly. It was no wonder that he’d always slicked it back; the current style softened his appearance a great deal. “I don’t need to be paid to look after Dawn; it’s my pleasure.”

 

Buffy nodded, giving him a brief smile. “I’ll walk her over on our way. The best time to catch this thing is after dark, so we’re waiting for the sun to go down.”

 

“Why don’t I pick her up?” he suggested, unbending slightly. “That should save you a trip.”

 

“Thanks,” Buffy said again, wondering at how easy it was to show a little gratitude to this man, who was a near stranger to her; after all, she didn’t know him anymore, not like Dawn and Tara did. It made her wonder what had really changed, because Spike had often helped, and she’d rarely expressed any kind of appreciation.

 

“It’s no trouble,” William replied. “As I said, spending time with Dawn is my pleasure.”

 

She nodded, not knowing how to take her leave. She’d come over to his apartment, since that was where both William and Tara could be found these days, and neither had a phone yet as far as she knew; he hadn’t invited her inside, however, and Buffy didn’t know what to do with herself. “I’ll see you later tonight. Around 9:30?” she said finally.

 

“Of course.”

 

The sound of the door closing seemed to echo in her ears long after she’d left the building; Buffy had to wonder if that’s how it had felt to Spike—as though she was continually putting walls and doors between them.

 

The more time that went by, the more Buffy realized that she missed Spike. It wasn’t just the sex, although she had missed that enough to take matters into her own hands more than a few times. Mostly, it was just Spike that she missed; the way he moved, the way his voice dropped when he was trying to seduce her, the way he held her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

 

She just missed _him_ , although not enough to regret breaking it off with him; that had needed to be done, and it probably would have been better never to have started it in the first place. She’d known it was wrong to use him, but Buffy had gone ahead and done it anyway, telling herself that it didn’t matter because he was a vampire and therefore couldn’t feel.

 

The lies rang hollow now; she couldn’t even make herself believe them anymore.

 

~~~~~

 

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Dawn protested, angry that Buffy had even asked William to take care of her in the first place. She was fifteen, soon to be sixteen, and she didn’t need to be watched.

 

Buffy sighed audibly. “Dawnie, it’s not that I think you can’t take care of yourself; it’s that you’re my sister, and there are plenty of bad guys who would come after you for that reason alone. Please, just go hang out with William tonight. You’ve said that you like being over there often enough that I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

 

Dawn frowned, recognizing that Buffy had a point, but not wanting to acknowledge it out of principle. “I guess I could go. William got cable, so it won’t be horribly boring.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Thank you. He’s picking you up in an hour.”

 

Dawn watched as Buffy left her room and then flopped back down onto her bed, wondering how she could work this new arrangement into her scheme. She’d been trying to get Buffy and William in the same room for a month, but to no avail; neither one was cooperating with her.

 

She just knew that they were perfect for each other, if only they would see it.

 

Of course, she’d felt the same way when William had been a vampire and obsessed with her sister, but Dawn hadn’t actually considered doing anything about it then; Spike and Buffy seemed to be together often enough that she hadn’t needed to contrive a means to put them together. These days, they rarely spoke, and William stayed mostly to himself, the only exceptions being herself and Tara.

 

In truth, Dawn was worried about him; William didn’t seem very happy, and he didn’t really _do_ anything. He read a lot, and he hung out with her and Tara when they were available, but other than that…

 

Well, Dawn suspected that he was more than a little depressed; having recently seen the look on Buffy, she knew it well.

 

What he needed was to get out of the apartment, maybe get a job. Get out among other people, for sure. Dawn thought that he needed to get back to the business of living, but she didn’t blame him for being out of practice. It had been a while, after all.

 

She was just going to have to give him a little nudge in the right direction, that was all.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander and Willow tagged along behind Buffy, toting their weapons. Not that they were expecting to do much; Buffy had been very clear about the need for them to stay clear, given the size and probable hunger of the demon. A crossbow was a long-distance weapon, though, and they could provide a distraction for the Slayer.

 

“So have you seen Anya at all?” Willow asked him in a low voice.

 

He shook his head. “No, it hurts too much, and I know she doesn’t want to see me. We’re done; there’s no way she’s ever going to forgive me for what I did.”

 

Willow regarded it as an improvement that Xander didn’t tear up at the mention of Anya’s name, which was what he’d been doing for the first couple of weeks after Spike had made the wish. “Are you feeling better?”

 

“I can make it through the work day without wishing I could suffer a fatal accident,” Xander joked, although it fell rather flat. At the look of horror on Willow’s face, he quickly added, “I wasn’t going to do anything about it, Will.”

 

“You’d better not!” she threatened. “What would I do without you?”

 

Xander didn’t respond to that question, knowing that any answer he gave would be less than positive; he’d been feeling as though the world might be able to get along just fine without him these days. “How about you and Tara?” he asked, changing the subject.

 

“I don’t think she’s ever going to trust me again,” Willow admitted. “She keeps telling me that it’s not about the magic, but I don’t know what else I can do to prove that I’m not going to hurt her, other than staying away from it.”

 

Xander hesitated. “I think I can understand where she’s coming from, though. You were using magic to control things, and Tara’s going to have to trust that you won’t take control like that again, and that’s going to take time.”

 

Willow frowned. “But—”

 

“Hush,” Buffy said from several feet in front of them. “We’re getting close.”

 

They quieted down, but Willow was left to think about what Xander had said; she didn’t necessarily disagree, since she had taken control of Tara in a way, and she’d used magic to do it. That was just it, though; it had been the magic. Willow never would have hurt Tara if she’d been in her right mind at the time.

 

It was the magic, that’s all, and Willow knew better now.

 

She didn’t have much time to consider what Xander had said; the demon rose up in front of them, and Willow quickly understood why Buffy had wanted them to provide backup. The demon was a huge, two-headed creature; Buffy couldn’t hold off both snapping mouths at once, so Willow and Xander began shooting at one thick, snake-like neck with their crossbows.

 

They weren’t great shots, but Xander managed to get its attention by sinking a bolt into its throat. The left head gave a squeaky roar and turned its attention to them; Buffy took advantage of its distraction, chopping away at the base of the right neck with strong overhand strokes with the sword she’d brought.

 

Willow sent her last bolt into its chest, but the thick hide prevented the quarrel from doing any real damage. Instead, the demon sent its head swinging from side to side, knocking both her and Xander over.

 

The creature bared its teeth in what looked like a satisfied grin and she panicked, murmuring the words of the first spell that came to mind. The thing froze in mid-snap, and Xander rolled out of the way to avoid its teeth.

 

Buffy took advantage of the respite, cutting off first one head and then the other while the thing remained frozen.

 

Willow released the spell, then let out a half-sob. She really hadn’t meant to use magic, but it had been the only thing she could think of doing. If Tara found out, any reparations that Willow had managed to make would come undone.

 

Buffy and Xander turned to stare at her. “I didn’t mean to,” Willow assured them. “Really, it just happened.”

 

“It’s probably a good thing,” Xander said slowly, looking at the carcass. “If you hadn’t stopped it…” He trailed off, obviously thinking of the damage that the demon’s teeth might have done to him.

 

Buffy nodded. “It’s okay, Will. You did the right thing.”

 

Willow wasn’t so sure.

 

~~~~~

 

“Here’s one,” Tara suggested, circling the advertisement in the paper. “I think it sounds interesting.”

 

William read the job ad, giving her a dubious look. “I don’t know.”

 

“What’s wrong with it?”

 

“Nothing,” William admitted. There had been nothing wrong with the last three employment advertisements that Tara had shown him; it was just that the very thought of having to fill out applications and interview for a position filled him with dread. Since he had plenty of money, there was no real pressure to find employment, and right now the terror of active job hunting was stronger than his boredom.

 

“How’s the Magic Box?” Dawn asked Tara.

 

The three of them were scattered around William’s living room; Dawn was watching some show that William found rather inane and pointless, but he hadn’t the heart to tell her to turn it off. Tara, meanwhile, was helping him look at employment ads in the hopes of finding him something to do.

 

William knew that he needed to do something with his time. It hadn’t been an issue when he was a vampire, and when he’d been human, he’d busied himself looking after his mother’s affairs and writing poetry. Both were out of the question now, as far as he was concerned.

 

Tara was spending most of her summer working part time at the Magic Box and taking summer classes; she wanted to graduate in four years, to reduce her loans, and also wanted to be able to lighten her load during her last year of college.

 

“It’s fine,” Tara said. “I enjoy helping people find what they need, and there are all kinds of interesting customers.”

 

“Maybe you could get a job like that,” Dawn proposed to William. “I bet you’d be good at it.”

 

He grunted in reply, unconvinced. William honestly had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. The more time that went by, the more he realized that he was going to have to figure something out. He was going to age now; he was going to grow old with all that entailed. William had to start worrying about things like retirement and savings and investments.

 

Not to mention illness and health insurance. Tara had been making comments to him recently, subtly suggesting that he might want to look into doing something about making sure he could see a doctor if necessary.

 

Honestly, there was nothing that he could see himself doing for the rest of his life; it had been such a long time since he’d had to worry about anything like that, and times had changed so much since then.

 

“You’ll figure it out,” Tara encouraged him. “Just give it some time.”

 

William summoned up a smile for her. “Of course.”

 

The knock on the door spared him from having to talk about it any more, and Dawn quickly scrambled to her feet. “I’ll get it,” she announced.

 

He somehow knew that it was _her_ , of course; who else would it be? Tara and Dawn were the only others that came by, and Buffy was bound to show up at some point that night to pick up her younger sister. There was a part of William that wanted to offer both of them a ride home.

 

He had purchased a car to replace the Desoto—sold to provide money after that long, awful summer, before Buffy had come back. Spike had known that Dawn would need money, and Willow and Tara weren’t going to be able to do much. With Giles returning to England, Spike had been the only one with ready access to cash. He’d finally admitted that he wasn’t leaving Sunnydale anytime soon, and sold the car.

 

William didn’t regret that choice now, even though Spike had done it for love of a dead Slayer, rather than for the Slayer’s sister. He would have done the same, solely to make sure that Dawn was taken care of.

 

The car he had now was rather unassuming, and although he could have afforded something a little flashier, there was a part of him that didn’t trust his new fortune. William sometimes dreamt about waking up a vampire again, about all the money he now had vanishing into thin air. It was a lingering fear that left him living modestly; fear and the frugality his mother had instilled in him. She had seen far too many families brought to ruin through profligate spending; she’d been determined that her own son wouldn’t do any such thing.

 

So William had a car, and he could easily have driven Buffy and Dawn back to their house, but he wasn’t going to offer his services; he still remembered all too well what being used felt like. Staying with Dawn was different, because he’d have done that on his own.

 

“You ready to go, Dawn?” Buffy asked from the doorway.

 

Dawn nodded. “I just have to get my stuff together.” When Buffy didn’t move from the doorway, her younger sister turned back to look at her. “Aren’t you coming in?”

 

Buffy hesitated. “I’ll wait out here.”

 

“Come in, Buffy,” William said, the manners that had been instilled in him from childhood mandating that he invite her inside.

 

“Thanks.” She stepped inside, looking around cautiously. “This is a nice place.”

 

William nodded. “It is, thank you. How have you been?” When in doubt, be as polite as possible.

 

“Good,” Buffy replied, equally polite. “You?”

 

“I’ve been well.” William had no idea what to say to her.

 

Dawn popped up between the two of them. “I’m ready.”

 

“All right,” Buffy said, not looking away from William. “See you around?”

 

She made it sound more like a question than a statement, and William felt compelled to respond. “Yes, I suppose you will.”

 

“Bye, Tara!” Dawn called out as she left. Buffy echoed her farewell, and then the door shut behind them, blocking William’s view.

 

Tara gave him a knowing look. “It’s awkward, isn’t it?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” William replied stiffly.

 

“William, I know what it’s like to have to talk to a person you used to be in a relationship with,” she reminded him.

 

William sighed. “It is awkward; I don’t know what to say to her anymore. I don’t know that I ever did.”

 

“It just takes time,” Tara said, repeating her earlier advice.

 

William supposed that he had plenty of that these days.

 

~~~~~

 

“Did you guys get the demon?” Dawn asked. The silence had seemed to drag on forever, and it had finally become so uncomfortable that she felt the need to say _something_.

 

“We got it.”

 

That was it, and Dawn hid a sigh. “Anything interesting happen?”

 

“Willow used a spell to immobilize the demon so we could kill it.”

 

Dawn stared at her sister. “I thought Willow wasn’t going to use magic!”

 

“She wasn’t; it just kind of happened.” Buffy shrugged. “She kept Xander from getting hurt.”

 

Dawn swallowed, suddenly very uncomfortable with the idea of Willow being in their house. The only reason she hadn’t made a fuss about Willow continuing to live with them was because she had promised to stay away from the spells. “Buffy…”

 

“It was the heat of the moment, Dawn,” Buffy assured her. “It’s not going to happen again.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Dawn objected. “If she slips in the middle of an emergency, she could slip when things aren’t going her way.”

 

Buffy glared at Dawn. “She did it to protect us, not to help herself. Don’t make a big deal out of this. Willow feels bad enough already.”

 

“Like she felt bad when she broke my arm?” Dawn asked.

 

“Dawnie—”

 

“No, Buffy,” Dawn said. “You don’t know that she isn’t going to screw up again, and I don’t want to be around for it when it happens.”

 

“She’s not going to hurt us,” Buffy assured her younger sister. “It’s fine.”

 

Dawn shook her head. “We’ll see,” she said dubiously. “I don’t think that Tara’s going to agree with you on that one.”

 

“Let Willow tell Tara herself,” Buffy ordered. “This isn’t any of your business.”

 

Dawn didn’t know about that, but she nodded anyway, knowing that Buffy was waiting for some acknowledgement that she had heard. “Fine.”

 

Not that she was going to make any promises, because if Willow was going to go off the deep end again, Dawn wasn’t going to be there for it. No matter what Buffy wanted.


	8. Finding Purpose

**“Open the curtain/Let some light in,/I feel so gray,/The world got smashed to pieces,/And put back together/The wrong way…Open the window,/Let some air in,/I feel so old/ There—where we were happy,/Long ago/Yesterday/Why you leaving me now?/There must be some doubt in your mind,/Can’t you open your heart?/Don’t want to be left behind.” ~Aqualung, “Left Behind”**

Tara knew that something was off; Willow was acting like she did when she was trying to hide something. She kept talking about how well she was doing, and how she was really trying to prevent the magic from taking over again.

 

Tara honestly wasn’t worried about the _magic_ taking over; it was Willow herself who concerned her.

 

“What’s going on, Willow?” Tara finally asked, determined to end the charade that everything was okay. She wasn’t going to avoid talking about things in their relationship; the first time around, Tara had worried about Willow’s dependence on magic for quite a while before she’d said anything, and she wasn’t doing that again.

 

Willow looked away, unable to meet Tara’s eyes. “I slipped the other night,” she admitted in a low voice.

 

Tara pulled back, sitting up straighter in her chair. They had met for coffee again; it was becoming something of a ritual, one that she enjoyed. She didn’t want to lose this relationship. “What happened?”

 

“It was when we went after that demon,” Willow explained. “I thought it was going to hurt Xander, so I froze it.”

 

Tara took a deep breath. “Willow, you doing magic isn’t what worries me; you using it to protect Xander or Buffy isn’t wrong.”

 

“But I slipped,” Willow protested. “I thought you’d be angry.”

 

Tara didn’t know how to get her point across. “It’s not the magic, it’s how you were using it. Not doing magic for ordinary routine things that you could do yourself is great. Not using it while you’re in the middle of a fight might get someone hurt.”

 

Willow heaved a sigh of relief. “So you’re saying that you trust me again?”

 

“I’m saying that in a situation like that, you should use every weapon you have to protect people,” Tara corrected gently. “I still don’t know that you won’t use magic to get your way the next time we fight. That’s just going to take time.”

 

From the look on Willow’s face, it was time that she didn’t particularly want to take. “But—”

 

“You took control of my mind and my feelings, Willow,” Tara said. “You tried to control me, because you didn’t want to do the hard work. I need to know that you won’t do that again.”

 

“I won’t!” Willow said. “I know better.”

 

Tara bit back a sigh. She understood why Willow was so reluctant to sit back and wait. Willow wanted things to be better, and she wanted them to be better _now_.

                                                                                                                                       

That she understood didn’t mean that Tara was ready to leap in with both feet, however.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tara apologized; she didn’t _feel_ sorry, but she wanted to say something to make Willow feel better. She honestly wasn’t trying to punish Willow, but Tara needed to protect herself.

 

Willow nodded. “It’s fine; I know you need time,” she said unhappily.

 

Tara wondered if this was ever going to get easier, and if their relationship could ever recover.

 

~~~~~

 

William wandered down the street aimlessly, having no particular place to be and nothing to do with his time. This was how he spent his days now—either sitting in his apartment or walking the streets of Sunnydale, appreciating the sunshine. It was the best part of being human, but he wished he had some purpose.

 

When he’d been a vampire, his main purpose had been getting as close to Buffy as possible; now, however, he had no desire to do anything of the sort.

 

He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t still attracted to her on a physical level. Buffy was a beautiful woman, and he’d found himself reacting to her in much the same way that Spike always had when she’d come by to ask him if he’d look after Dawn for the evening. William had given himself a long lecture on the idiocy of being attracted to Buffy, but it hadn’t done much good; when she’d come by later to pick Dawn up, he’d had the same physical reaction.

 

William kept telling himself that it was only to be expected. There was still a lot of Spike left in him, so it was natural that he would still feel some pull towards Buffy. That didn’t mean that he was in love with her, because he wasn’t. Lust and love were two completely different things.

 

Besides, he’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to be Love’s Bitch anymore; William was done with that.

 

What he needed was something to take his mind off of Buffy, something to do with his time.

 

William frowned as he passed a small bookstore; the legend on the door proclaimed it a shop for both new and used volumes, and a small hand-lettered sign with the words “Help Wanted” was taped up just below. He liked books; being surrounded by them all day wouldn’t be so bad.

 

He pushed the door open, hearing soft chimes as he did so. Seeing no one at first, William called out, “Hello?”

 

An elderly man came out of the back of the shop and peered at William through rheumy eyes. “Can I help you?”

 

“I saw your sign on the door,” William explained. “I thought I might be of some assistance.”

 

The man seemed to consider that for a moment. “So you need a job?”

 

“I’d like one,” William replied.

 

“Huh.” The man gave him another searching look. “My name’s Daniel. Why don’t you come on back?”

 

William followed him into the back room, which appeared to serve as an office. The shop itself was small, although the number of books stacked anywhere there was a level surface probably caused it to look smaller than it actually was. “William,” he introduced himself.

 

“I can’t pay much,” Daniel warned. “But my kids have been getting on my case for a while now, telling me I ought to have help. I’d like to be able to visit them when I want, so I’ll need someone I can rely on.”

 

William smiled, the expression tinged with irony. “I think you’ll find me reliable.”

 

Daniel didn’t look convinced. “Why would you want to work here?” he asked. “Suits me, but it’s quiet, and it’s not an exciting job.”

 

“I’ve had quite enough excitement,” William replied.

 

“It won’t be full time,” Daniel said. “Not unless I’m out of town.”

 

“That doesn’t concern me,” William assured him.

 

Daniel still didn’t appear persuaded. “You a student?” he asked.

 

“No,” William replied. “There have been a number of changes in my life recently.” The explanation was purposefully vague. “I need something to do while I figure out what my next step might be.”  


“You got any references?”

 

“Not as such,” William admitted. “But there are those who will vouch for me.”

 

“Yeah, alright,” Daniel said abruptly. “We’ll give it a try.”

 

William nodded. “Thank you.”

 

Daniel shrugged. “Thank me later once we’ve figured out if we can stand each other’s company.”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles put down the phone wearily. He had been trying to convince the Council that they ought to be paying the Slayer a salary; Giles knew that Buffy could only do so much for so long. There was no doubt that the combination of a full time job and Slaying, not to mention taking care of Dawn, was taking its toll on Buffy, and he feared that she could not last much longer under the weight of her responsibilities.

 

There might not be much that he could do, but he would help in whatever way he could.

 

So far, Giles had been able to make some progress; they were at least listening to his arguments, rather than dismissing him out of hand.

 

“Hello, Rupert.”

 

Anya’s voice broke him out of his melancholy thoughts. “Anya!” he said, surprised by her sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?”

 

Her bright smile dimmed, and she took a step back. “You said to pop in, and I was in the neighborhood. If this is a bad time…”

 

Giles cursed himself silently; he didn’t mind Anya’s arrival in the least, but seeing her suddenly had startled him out of his good manners. “No, it’s not a bad time at all. You startled me, that’s all.”

 

“Oh, that’s all right then,” Anya said with a smile. “What were you working on?”

 

“I’m trying to get the Council to pay Buffy a pension,” Giles replied. “So far, my success has been limited.”

 

“Have you pointed out that the only other Slayer is in prison, and that it would save them money to take care of the Slayer that they have rather than paying to train a new one?” Anya asked, practical as always. “An effective tactic in getting people to spend money is to point out that it will save them money in the long run.”

 

Anya would know, but Giles hadn’t been born yesterday. That had been one of the first things he’d pointed out to the Council, but they were still stalling. “I have tried that tactic, but they have never paid a Slayer before, and tradition seems to be stronger.”

 

Anya snorted. “Just because you’ve always done something one way doesn’t mean you can’t do things a different way. I had to change the way I did vengeance over the centuries; you’d be surprised at how few people wish for disembowelment these days.”

 

Giles cleared his throat, unwilling to think about the implications of that statement. The idea of embarking on a relationship—if that’s what was truly going on—with a vengeance demon was a little frightening, particularly when she was still engaged in vengeance. He knew that he had no right to ask Anya to give it up, however; he had no hold over her, and no right to make ultimatums.

 

Figuring out the ethics of their whatever-it-was could wait until later.

 

“Would you like a cup of tea while you’re here?” he asked, wanting to get off the subjects of vengeance and evisceration.

 

“That would be nice,” Anya said brightly.

 

Giles wondered how to broach the subject without the question seeming strange. “I was wondering if you’d seen Spike lately.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow. “You mean William?”

 

He covered his confusion by pouring the tea. “Yes, of course.”

 

“Not that there’s much difference,” Anya continued. “About the only thing that changes when you go back to being human is that your purpose is gone.”

 

Giles frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”

 

Anya gave him a look that said she thought he was being purposely obtuse. “How did you feel when you weren’t a Watcher anymore?”

 

“I see.” Giles considered that for a moment. “Then you don’t believe that Spike—excuse me—William has a soul?”

 

“What does a soul have to do with anything?” Anya asked. “Demons have souls.”

 

Giles blinked. “What?”

 

“Demons have souls,” Anya said patiently. “What do you think makes a demon a demon?”

 

“I don’t think I understand,” Giles said. “I was under the impression…”

 

Anya rolled her eyes expressively. “Oh, your Council, always thinking that they know all the metaphysical answers. Human souls might be different than demon souls, but it’s the same principle.”

 

“But what about vampires?” Giles asked. “Angel and Angelus were two very different creatures.”

 

“Vampires are different,” Anya admitted. “They’re a mix of demon and human, and no one really knows where the human part goes when the demon takes over. Most demons suspect that it stays put, which is why no one really likes vampires.”

 

“Oh.” Giles sat back in his chair, trying to digest that bit of information. The possibility that there might be a black and white answer to the question of what constituted a demon seemed faint.

 

Anya sighed. “Really, you humans make such a big deal out of a soul when that has so little to do with anything.”

 

“Really?” Giles asked, suddenly itching to know Anya’s opinion on the subject. It had been easy to forget that she had seen nearly twelve centuries before she’d become human again. Now, however, she was Anyanka again, and it was impossible not to recognize her expertise in this sort of area. “What is the important thing, then?”

 

“That depends on your point of view,” Anya replied. “But from your perspective, I suppose it boils down to what someone does. You don’t know what kind of a person someone is until you’ve seen them in action.” Her brow furrowed and she cocked her head to the side, as though hearing something. “I should go. I’ve got work to do.” She stood, smiling at him. “Thank you for the tea,” Anya said politely. “I enjoyed our conversation.”

 

She was gone in the next moment, leaving Giles to puzzle over the information she’d given him. While he wasn’t sure yet what difference it would make, he had the feeling that what she’d said could change everything.

 

~~~~~

 

The improvement in his mood could be measured in millimeters—assuming that a mood could be measured in length. Xander still thought that death would probably be an improvement over his depression, but he could now make it through a day of work without breaking down, and he’d cut back to five beers a night, rather than six.

 

Five just took the edge off.

 

Xander didn’t drink _every_ night; that would mean that he had a problem. Every night that either Willow or Buffy didn’t show up, however, his only respite was in a bottle or a can; it didn’t really matter, as long as the pain was dulled a bit.

 

There was no way he could keep this up for long, but Xander wasn’t planning on drinking every night for the rest of his life. He wasn’t going to become his father.

 

But he didn’t know any other way to get over Anya.

 

He had decided to get out for the evening and take his drinking somewhere else; the Bronze seemed the only alternative to an empty apartment.

 

The club was crowded, and he looked over the teenagers that filled the place, remembering when that had been him. When his highest goal was to get laid.

 

Yeah, that had turned out to be _so_ much fun.

 

At least he could buy his own beer these days; that was about the only thing he could say for getting older. “Can I get a Bud?”

 

Xander took the bottle with a nod of thanks, remembering to leave a tip; although his days as a bartender had been short-lived, he still remembered how much that job had sucked. He wondered what it said that no one asked for his I.D. these days.

 

“One beer, and a Diet Coke, please.”

 

He turned at the familiar voice, surprised to see Spike there. Xander could taste the hot rage that rose up, sharp and bitter.

 

“Spike.”

 

William turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”

 

“You’re the one who did this to me.”

 

Recognition dawned in William’s eyes. “Xander.” He raised an eyebrow, his expression sardonic. “If you’ll remember, I wasn’t the man who left his bride at the altar.”

 

“You’re the one who made the wish,” Xander replied, taking a step closer.

 

“William? Is anything wrong?”

 

Tara’s presence cooled Xander’s ire. Even if he’d been inclined to beat the newly human Spike to a bloody pulp, he wasn’t going to do it in front of Tara.

 

Hell, he probably wouldn’t have done it anyway.

 

“Xander was just reintroducing himself,” William said evenly, meeting Xander’s eyes with a steady gaze.

 

Tara looked between the two men, and Xander found himself unable to meet her eyes.

 

“Do you want to come sit with us?” she asked, motioning behind her. “We’re at that table over there. It’s just the two of us, if you do.”

 

Tara led William away with a hand on his arm, leaving Xander to stare after them. Although he had no hard feelings against Tara, there was no way he was going to drink with Spike.

 

He glanced around the crowded club, seeing groups and couples, but no one was drinking alone tonight. Xander stared at his bottle of beer; he didn’t particularly want to be drinking alone, either.

 

Winding his way through the bodies and tables, he found Tara and Spike sitting at a table for two, with a third chair already pulled up for a very tight fit. After a moment’s hesitation, Xander sat down.

 

“How are you?” Tara asked him.

 

Xander shrugged. “Fine. I’m fine.” It was a lie, but he didn’t want to spill the truth. “So, what are you guys doing here?”

 

“We just thought it would be nice to get a drink,” Tara replied.

 

Xander frowned suspiciously. “What? You and Spike are together now?”

 

Both of them started laughing at the same time. “Xander, I’m gay,” Tara said. “I think you already know that.”

 

Xander shifted uncomfortably. “Willow said you guys are living together now.”

 

“We’re sharing expenses,” William corrected him.

 

Xander couldn’t fight back the sneer. “So you’re going to have to join the working world, huh, Spike? No more stealing money from me or Buffy.”

 

The other man drew himself up. “It’s William, and Buffy _paid_ me for my help; I never stole money from her.” William smirked. “And stealing money from you is one of the few things I don’t feel sorry about.”

 

Xander’s face darkened. “I can’t believe you can sit there and look smug. You’re a murderer. If Buffy had been smart, she would have dusted you a long time ago.”

 

“Xander, that’s enough.” Tara’s sharp voice cut through his tirade; he’d never heard her use that tone before. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. If you can’t be civil, you don’t have to sit here.”

 

There was a moment when Xander actually considered apologizing; the side of him that recognized when he was screwing things up royally knew that he ought to apologize, that Spike or William or whatever the hell he wanted to be called wasn’t responsible for the state of his life.

 

That side of him wasn’t currently in control, however.

 

“You’re always going to be a monster,” Xander said, wanting to strike out from his own pain, to make someone else hurt as much as he did. “It doesn’t matter if you have a heartbeat or not, or if you have a soul or not. You’re always going to be worthless.”

 

Leaving his beer on the table, he left the Bronze, stopping outside the doors.

 

Funny, but he didn’t feel any better.


	9. Familiar Strangers

**“I don’t know your face no more/Or feel the touch that I adore/I don’t know your face no more/It’s just a place I’m looking for…I don’t know your thoughts these days/We’re strangers in an empty space/I don’t understand your heart/It’s easier to be apart/We might as well be strangers in another town/We might as well be living in another time/For all I know of you now.” ~Keane, “We Might As Well Be Strangers”**

 

Dawn was plotting; it was something she was pretty good at. The entire problem, as she saw it, was that William never really hung out with anyone except for her and Tara. Although that was fine, as far as she was concerned, it meant that he wasn’t meeting anybody new.

 

Even if William wasn’t in love with her sister anymore, Dawn didn’t think that was any reason for them to completely avoid each other.

 

She had considered and discarded calling them both and pretending to be in trouble, thereby having them run into each other while ostensibly trying to rescue her. The problem with that idea was that they were sure to be pissed off at her, and that was the last thing she needed. Knowing Buffy, she would be grounded for forever, and William would be stiffly polite to her for the next week until he got over it.

 

No, Dawn needed to do something even sneakier than that, but she wasn’t sure what it might be.

 

At least, she didn’t know until she went to the Bronze with Buffy and Willow, and saw William and Tara leaving. “Hey, are you guys taking off already?” she asked. “You should stay.”

 

“You should,” Willow urged, looking at Tara. “That would be great.”

 

William glanced at Tara. “You can stay. I think I’d better get home.”

 

Tara looked torn. “William…”

 

Dawn frowned, suddenly noticing the wounded light in William’s eyes. “What happened?”

 

“Nothing happened,” William replied. “I’m just tired; that’s all. I think I’m just going to go home, but you should stay, Tara.”

 

Unexpectedly, Buffy spoke up. “You shouldn’t walk home by yourself, William.” When he looked like he was about to protest, she added, “I was going to patrol tonight, anyway. I’ll walk you back.”

 

Dawn could see that he wasn’t terribly thrilled with that idea, but there wasn’t any way he could decline her offer politely, and William was always polite. At least, Dawn hadn’t seen him be rude to anybody yet.

 

“Very well,” he finally said. “I’ll see you later, Tara. Good night, Dawn, Willow.”

 

“What was that about?” Dawn demanded as soon as Buffy and William were out of earshot.

 

Tara sighed. “We ran into Xander earlier, and I think he blames William for how he feels.”

 

Willow winced. “Well, Spike was the one to make the wish. Not that he didn’t deserve at least a little bit of it,” she quickly added at seeing the look on Tara’s face. “It certainly doesn’t give Xander the right to be mean to him.”

 

Tara shook her head. “Xander’s hurting, and he wants to make other people hurt, too. I’ve seen it happen before.”

 

Dawn realized that Buffy had left her with Willow and Tara—which wasn’t a bad thing, except that she was already starting to get very “together” vibes from them, and that left her the third wheel.

 

“Dawn?”

 

She turned to see one of the guys from her school standing there. Dawn hadn’t seen Eric all summer, and he’d grown about six inches—and somehow gotten a lot cuter. “Hey, Eric.”

 

He gave her a shy smile. “You here with someone?”

 

“Uh,” Dawn hesitated, looking back at Tara and Willow, both of whom made shooing motions with their hands, clearly encouraging her to go have fun. “Not really. What about you?”

 

“Just some friends,” Eric said, looking over at a table full of other classmates. “Do you want to come sit with us? We’ve got room for one more.”

 

Dawn gave him a bright smile. “Sure.”

 

~~~~~

 

“You didn’t have to escort me home.”

 

“Part of the job description,” Buffy replied, not knowing what else to say to him. He was so different these days that she hardly knew how to respond.

 

William shrugged. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

 

“Other than make sure you don’t get turned again?” Buffy asked. “Not really. I figure preventing someone from becoming a vampire is even better than dusting the ones that are already turned.”

 

He nodded, acceding her point. “How have you been?”

 

Apparently, William did small talk, which was odd. Spike never had, unless he was trying to get her to go out on a date, or trying to distract her from his real purpose. “Good. You know, it’s the usual thing. Work, slay, sleep.”

 

“Tara said that you were going back to university this fall,” William said.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Buffy finally gets her act together. I guess it took me long enough.”

 

“You’ve had quite a bit to deal with as of late,” William pointed out. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

 

Buffy wondered how on earth he could be so kind to her, especially given the fact that he seemed to have no feelings for her at all—unless it was disdain. “Maybe,” was all she would admit to, even though there was a part of her that wanted to explain, to apologize.

 

She’d used William’s name when she broke up with Spike; Buffy had to wonder how he felt about that now.

 

“This is our apartment building,” William said as they came up to his apartment building. “Thank you for the escort home.”

 

“My pleasure,” Buffy replied, watching as he unlocked the door. “William?” she called before the door could shut behind him.

 

He turned in the doorway, his face in shadow, his expression unreadable. “Yes?”

 

“I—thank you.”

 

William frowned. “For what?”

 

“You and Tara have been a huge help this summer, with Dawn,” Buffy said honestly. “You guys have been a good influence on her.”

 

Buffy watched as he froze, going completely still. “I—” He stopped, apparently speechless. “The pleasure has been mine.”

 

“If there’s ever anything I can do for you, let me know,” Buffy said, then watched as he nodded shortly and ducked into the building. She let out a long breath, smiling to herself. That small kindness had felt good.

 

Maybe she should do that more often.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara kept an eye out for Dawn, knowing that Buffy wouldn’t want her little sister left alone. She would probably need Willow and Dawn to drop her by her apartment before they walked home later—unless she went back to the Summers’ house with Willow.

 

If the other girl made the suggestion, Tara wasn’t sure she’d refuse.

 

As though Willow had read her mind, she asked, “Do you want to come home with me tonight?”

 

Tara hesitated. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

 

Willow’s face fell. “Okay.”

 

Tara could see that the other woman was fighting her first instinct, which was to try and convince her that getting back together _was_ a good idea. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she hastened to assure her. “It’s just that I don’t think that rushing back into things would be a good thing.”

 

“We haven’t rushed anything,” Willow protested. “We’ve been taking things slow all summer. I mean, if you don’t want to, I understand, but I just don’t know what else I can do to convince you that I’m better.”

 

Tara thought that she might be convinced if Willow stopped treating her problem like it was a sickness, rather than the tendency to wrest control from others and nature. It showed a frightening lack of respect for the natural order, and for the autonomy of others. At the same time, Tara was equally certain that Willow had only the best of intentions.

 

And she knew what they said about good intentions.

 

It was against her better judgment, and Tara was afraid that she was going to kick herself in the morning, but she nodded. “I can come over tonight.”

 

Willow’s luminescent smile should have been all Tara needed to assure herself that this was a good idea, but it somehow wasn’t enough.

 

~~~~~

 

William glanced up from the morning paper as Tara came through the front door of the apartment. “How was your night?” he asked mildly.

 

Tara just shook her head. “I’m going to shower.”

 

He frowned as she left the room, suddenly very worried about her. Between the two of them, Tara was the one who was usually calm and collected, and if she was upset, there was something big going on.

 

William started the kettle for tea, planning on making something soothing. He also began getting out ingredients for a simple breakfast, just eggs and toast. Tara had been working on teaching him his way around the kitchen, and he’d come a long way over the course of the summer. He was, at least, unlikely to burn anything these days, and could even follow a recipe if it was clear enough.

 

Tara came out of the bathroom with her robe wrapped around her and her hair in a towel; William was no longer uncomfortable with her being in such a state of undress—possibly because he saw women on the street showing more skin. The other part was that they were so comfortable together these days that it didn’t even register.

 

She was like family.

 

“I’ve got tea,” he called. “And I’m making breakfast.” Tara stared at him, and William could see that she had been crying. “Tara?”

 

“Give me a minute,” she managed to choke out. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

 

He nodded. “Take your time, love.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, Tara was seated at their small table, a towel draped over her shoulders to catch the dampness from her still-wet hair. “Thank you,” she murmured as she sipped her tea, now composed.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No.”

 

William didn’t press; instead, he bent his head over his paper again, pretending to pay attention to the news of a world that no longer made sense to him. He had a feeling that Tara would speak to him eventually, even if she didn’t explain in detail.

 

Sure enough, after she’d eaten her eggs and a couple of pieces of toast, Tara sighed. “It was weird.”

 

There was a part of him that wanted details; there was another part that didn’t want to know anything at all. William swallowed his next question for the more neutral, “Are you all right?”

 

“Not really,” she admitted. “I thought that we were perfect for each other, William. Willow is the only person I’ve ever really been in love with, but last night was just—awkward.”

 

He hesitated, then tentatively said, “I don’t think I understand.”

 

“I don’t know that I understand,” Tara confessed with a bitter laugh. “I just know that nothing felt the same as it did before. I couldn’t let go completely.”

 

William frowned, beginning to understand. “You still don’t trust her, and it’s interfering in your relationship on every level.”

 

An expression of relief crossed Tara’s face. “That’s it exactly, but I don’t want to let this go. I’m not ready to call it quits forever.”

 

William frowned, thinking about what he might do in the same situation, what he might want. “Perhaps you need a gesture of good faith,” he suggested. “Something that Willow could do that would prove she’s changed, or that she wants to change.”

 

Tara considered that for a minute. “That’s not a bad idea.”

 

“I do occasionally have good ideas,” William said with a smile.

 

She met his eyes, her focus suddenly on him rather than herself. “He was wrong, you know.”

 

Thrown off by the sudden change of subject, William raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“Xander,” Tara replied. “He was wrong. You’re a good man.”

 

William’s expression was wistful. “Thank you.”

 

Too bad that he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe her.

 

~~~~~

 

Daniel didn’t even bother training him, since there wasn’t much to learn. “Best thing about this job is that you’re surrounded by books all day,” Daniel commented. “Feel free to read whatever you want, as long as you return them in the same condition.”

 

“Thank you.” Being surrounded by so many books made William feel as rich as Midas. He’d been quite the collector when he’d been human the first time, but Spike hadn’t done much reading in the intervening years. Not that he hadn’t read at all, but it hadn’t been a high priority for him.

 

“Only thing better is fishing,” Daniel said. “You been fishing recently?”

 

William shook his head, pulling himself out of his reverie. “I’ve never gone fishing,” he admitted.

 

Daniel snorted. “You never went with your dad?”

 

“No. He didn’t do much fishing, and he died when I was fairly young.” William touched the spine of a well-worn copy of _Heart of Darkness_ , thinking that it might be a good book to start with; he certainly felt as though he had a “heart of darkness.”

 

The old man gave him a sharp look. “Then your mom raised you.”

 

“Yes,” William said, not knowing what more to say. He didn’t want Daniel’s pity.

 

“She’s not around anymore, either.” It was a statement, rather than a question, and William was grateful for Daniel’s matter-of-fact attitude. “I lost both my parents when I wasn’t much older than you are now.”

 

That was all that he said, but it was enough to form a bond of sorts. After some discussion, it was agreed that William would work four mornings a week to allow Daniel to do the fishing that he loved, along with working full time during any vacations he might take. “I don’t expect you to work Christmas day and the like,” Daniel said. “I always shut the shop up for that sort of thing.”

 

It promised to be an easy job, with the ready access to so many books, and the comfortable atmosphere, enough to make it enjoyable. William left the shop that day feeling a little more optimistic about things.

 

On a whim, William stopped in at the Magic Box on his way back to the apartment. He couldn’t remember if it was Tara or Anya working, but he wasn’t disappointed to see Anya. “William!” she said with a smile. “How are you?”

 

“I’m well,” he replied, and for the first time it wasn’t a lie. “How are you?”

 

Anya gave him a big smile. “I’m great.”

 

“That’s good to hear.” William wasn’t sure what else to say; although it had seemed polite to check in with Anya, he didn’t know what else to say.

 

“Are you still angry with Hallie?” Anya asked. “I could have told her not to grant your wish if I’d known what she was up to. Although, it’s suitable vengeance, so I can’t fault her for that.”

 

William frowned. “Suitable vengeance for whom? Her?”

 

“Hallie?” Anya asked, surprised that he hadn’t understood. “No, of course not. Unless you had a vengeance wish against _her_.”

 

William’s eyes narrowed, thinking of all the vengeance he wouldn’t mind wreaking on her. She had ruined his life twice now, although he thought that in both instances it might all come out right in the end. That hadn’t been the person he’d been thinking of when he’d made the wish, though. “You meant Buffy, then.”

 

“Of course,” Anya replied. “It’s really perfect when you think about it.”

 

He shook his head, taking a seat at the wooden table at the center of the shop. “I don’t think I understand.”

 

Anya gave him a pitying look. “William, your wish removed any obstacle there might be for Buffy to be with you. She likes you, and now you don’t like her. It’s bound to hurt.”

 

William snorted, a sound that caused him to sound a lot more like Spike in that moment. “She doesn’t like me.” Even as he said it, his expression turned uncertain as he recalled her gratitude of the previous evening.

 

Anya nodded smugly. “See? It’s funny how when someone’s hard to get they become a lot more attractive. Xander seems to be similarly affected.”

 

“Has he been coming around you lately?”

 

“Oh, he’ll drift by the shop and stare through the windows,” Anya said with apparent disdain. “He missed his chance. I’m not going to fall for someone that immature again.”

 

William gave her a sharp look. “Do you miss him?”

 

“I miss the orgasms,” Anya said bluntly. “I suppose you could say that I miss what we could have been, but I don’t miss _him_. That part is over, thanks to that wish you made.”

 

William thought about that on his way home, realizing that he felt the same way where it concerned Buffy. He missed the sex, and he missed what could have been between them—if she’d given him an honest chance—but he didn’t miss her.

 

Not really.

 

“Honesty,” he muttered, reminding himself not to be blind to the truth. William wasn’t going to allow himself to be blinded again. In all honesty, there were moments when he missed Buffy, missed the camaraderie they’d had. When Buffy had first returned from the grave, there had been something there—something between her and Spike that had been soft and real.

 

William couldn’t miss what it had turned into, and that was what first came to mind when he thought about Buffy—her expression one of anger as she pounded his face, her contempt when she threw the money at him. Her fists, her words—they were harsh, abrasive, and William couldn’t live with that. Unlike Spike, he didn’t thrive on pain.

 

William could feed on unrequited love for a while, but not on abuse.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander felt guilty; it was a new feeling where William was concerned. Mostly it was the sense that he’d crossed a line somewhere.

 

He wouldn’t have had to sit with them; he could have walked out of the Bronze altogether. Instead, he’d made a complete and utter ass out of himself.

 

There. He’d admitted it.

 

Xander believed that humans and vampires were fundamentally different, and he didn’t think that he was wrong on that one. That meant he had to accept that Spike and William were two entirely separate people, though, which meant that he’d just intentionally hurt a human. A guy who’d never done anything to him.

 

Assuming, of course, that Spike and William _were_ separate people. If they weren’t, then Xander’s words would be slightly (only slightly) more justified, and he didn’t have to feel like such a bully. Accepting that they were the same people would mean changing his entire worldview, which Xander wasn’t quite ready to do.

 

Every time he thought of that possibility, Xander remembered Jesse’s face as he drove the stake home. If Spike, as a vampire, could have changed on his own, then surely Jesse could have changed.

 

Xander _needed_ to retain his black and white perceptions. He needed to believe that there was good and there was evil, and the good guys fought the bad guys. The good guys did not fraternize with the bad guys.

 

The more time went by, however, the more holes got poked in that theory. Xander had experienced a level of darkness within his own soul that had left him reeling. Before that demon had shown up at his wedding, Xander would have said that he’d die for Anya without hesitation. Now, he knew that under the right circumstances he could kill her—also without hesitation.

 

What did that mean, really?

 

Xander had allowed his temper to get the better of him again, and he’d taken it out on William. And, while Spike had been a pain in his ass, Xander hadn’t said much more than two words to William.

 

Xander knew that he probably should apologize, but it was the last thing he wanted to do.

 

“You’re thinking pretty hard,” Buffy said, glancing over at him as they wandered through their third cemetery of the night. “What’s up?”

 

Buffy had invited him to patrol with her again, and he’d decided that accompanying her was a much better idea than staying home and getting drunk. Since the next day was Sunday, Xander could look forward to sleeping in, too.

 

“Just thinking about what an ass I can be,” he admitted.

 

Buffy looked amused. “Is there a particular incident you’re thinking of?”

 

“Very funny,” Xander said sourly. “I’m being serious.”

 

“So am I,” she said. “I can’t help unless I know what it’s about.”

 

Xander made a face. “I ran into Spike—William and Tara at the Bronze last night.”

 

Buffy looked as though something had just clicked. “That’s why he didn’t want to stay,” she said, as if to herself.

 

“William told you?” Xander asked.

 

The Slayer shook her head in surprise. “No, William just wanted to go home as soon as we got there. I wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry.”

 

“That would be me,” Xander said. “Chasing people away for no good reason.”

 

Buffy looked sympathetic. “Been there, done that.” She hesitated. “What’s your big problem with Spike, Xander? Or what _was_ your big problem, since he’s not really Spike anymore.”

 

“I just didn’t like him.” Xander had never really thought about the “why” of hating Spike. He just did, that was all.

 

That kind of an attitude wasn’t going to work anymore, though, and Xander was beginning to get the feeling that if he didn’t rein in his temper soon, he could end up losing a lot more than he was willing to give up.

 

A lot more.


	10. How to Move On

**“Common sense/Goes out the window like a cigarette/I take a hit again/When all her friends/They talk about me in the past tense/I take the hit again/She walks in in the middle of the night/Like we’re good to go/All screwed up but it just feels right/And I don’t wanna know where you go/Or how we went wrong/And when I think I can’t go on/She comes/And she comes/But when she goes she always takes away the best of me/She comes/And she comes/And when she’s done I’m left with nothin’ but the rest of me…Whatever she does/I always come undone.” ~Lit, “She Comes”**

 

“Are you and Tara back together?” Dawn asked eagerly. Although she knew that Willow had hurt Tara badly, they had represented the perfect couple in her eyes. The idea that they would be able to work things out gave her hope for the future. She couldn’t have said what she was hoping for, just that there was hope.

 

Willow wouldn’t meet her eyes, though, and Dawn knew then that it was bad. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, Dawnie.”

 

Dawn frowned. “But I thought…” She trailed off, not wanting to let on that she knew exactly what they’d been doing the previous night; it seemed like an invasion of their privacy.

 

The older girl grimaced. “I don’t think that helped us any. Tara still doesn’t trust me.”

 

Dawn nodded, and—sensing that Willow didn’t really want to answer any more questions—left her bedroom. The phone rang, and she hurried to answer it. “Summers’ residence.”

 

“Is Dawn there?”

 

“This is Dawn.”

 

“It’s Eric.”

 

She had actually recognized his voice, but she didn’t want to appear too desperate by greeting him right away. “Hey, Eric,” Dawn replied, keeping her voice carefully cheerful. She didn’t want to seem too disinterested either. A girl had to walk a very fine line in the beginning of a relationship.

 

If that’s what was going on here.

 

“I, uh, had a good time last night,” Eric said.

 

Dawn smiled. “I did, too.”

 

“Great!” She could hear the relief in his voice. “Maybe we could do it again? Say, next Friday?”

 

Dawn couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice; this was the first boy who had asked her out on a real date. “That would be great.”

 

“So I’ll see you at school on Monday, and we can talk about when I should pick you up?” Eric asked.

 

“Sure,” Dawn said. They talked for a few more minutes about some of their mutual friends and classes, and then said goodbye. Dawn hung up the phone and leaned against the wall, feeling a huge grin forming. She probably looked like an idiot, but she didn’t care.

 

Her grin faded abruptly. “What am I going to wear?” she asked aloud.

 

“To what?” Buffy asked as she entered the kitchen.

 

Dawn hesitated, knowing that her sister was going to have to find out about her date sooner or later, but not really wanting to risk Buffy going all over-protective. “I have a date next Friday.”

 

“Who’s your date?” Buffy sounded cheerful enough, but Dawn didn’t trust it.

 

“His name is Eric,” Dawn replied. “Tara and Willow sort of met him the other night while we were at the Bronze. He asked me to sit with him and his friends.”

 

Buffy nodded. “We could probably go shopping this week. There’s a little extra money in the checking account, as long as you don’t go overboard.”

 

Dawn stared at her sister. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, really,” Buffy said, smiling. “Every girl needs something special to wear on her first date.”

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dawn squealed, throwing her arms around her sister. “This is so great, Buffy! I have to call Janice!”

 

As Dawn dialed her friend’s number, she made a mental note to see Tara next. Tara would be excited for her, too, although Dawn had a feeling that William would be as over-protective as she’d expected Buffy to be.

 

~~~~~

 

“You should come with me,” Tara said. “I don’t want to go by myself.”

 

William shook his head. “I don’t think so, Tara. What am I going to do there?”

 

Tara shrugged. “Do what everybody else does. You mingle, and drink. There’s a girl from one of my classes who invited me, and I think Willow might be there, too.”

 

William raised an eyebrow. “Then why would I need to go?”

 

“Because if Willow doesn’t show up, I don’t have to fend off anyone’s advances,” Tara said. “Normally, I don’t care that much, but I don’t want to deal with it tonight, and _you_ need to get out more.”

 

He frowned. “I don’t see why.”

 

“You can’t hide from the world forever,” Tara said wisely, knowing exactly why William preferred to stay in the apartment when he wasn’t working—and why he’d chosen to work in a bookstore where the customers liked to browse silently. He was retreating from living, and when Tara recalled the vibrancy that Spike had had, she mourned for him.

 

Tara was fairly certain that William simply wasn’t sure how to act around people anymore; he knew how to interact with the Scoobies, but not the world at large. Strangers frightened him in a way, and she wished that she knew some way to ease his passage, to teach him how to find his place. From her own experience, however, she knew that he would have to do that himself.

 

William glanced down at his hands. “How can I face the world with blood on my hands?”

 

Tara sat down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Your hands are as clean as anyone’s, William. You are not Spike; you can’t hold yourself responsible for everything that he did.”

 

“Can’t I?” he asked, rising to walk over to the window. “If I maintain—which I do—that the soul doesn’t make that much difference, then it follows that I am responsible for Spike’s actions. I am still the monster.”

 

Tara sighed. “I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing, William.”

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked sullenly, sounding at that moment very much as Spike had at his most recalcitrant.

 

“Spike _was_ changing,” Tara said. “I saw it with my own eyes, and it should have been impossible for a vampire without a soul to want to be good—to do good. So maybe you should start thinking about all the things you did right and how far you’ve come, rather than focusing on everything you did wrong. Moping isn’t going to bring anyone back.”

 

Her tone was sharper than she’d meant it to be, and she felt a stab of guilt. Instead of the anger she was expecting, however, William responded by laughing, his rueful chuckle telling her that he hadn’t taken offense. “I’ve been a pain in the arse, then, haven’t I?”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Tara replied, a smile playing around the corners of her lips. “I just think that you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time thinking. You’re ruminating.”

 

“So I am,” he murmured. William turned from the window to look at her, his curls falling down over his forehead. “I did not think this much when I was human the first time,” he admitted. “I distracted myself with poetry, but I find that escape is closed to me now.”

 

Tara shook her head. “You could still write poetry, William.”

 

“I could,” he replied. “But I still wouldn’t be any good.”

 

“Then maybe you should just try writing,” she suggested.

 

He frowned. “Write what?”

 

“I don’t know,” Tara said. “Whatever you feel like writing. Or take a class—take basket-weaving, or creative writing, or something, but get out a little. Meet other people who know you as William and not as Spike. I think you’ll find out that you’re a better man than you think.”

 

William took a breath. “Wouldn’t that be a lie?”

 

“No more a lie than when I tell people that I’m from out east and that I don’t have the money to get home very often,” Tara replied. “Or when I let them think that it’s my sexual preferences that my family had a problem with, rather telling them that my dad thinks I’m half-demon. You don’t have to tell people everything to tell them the truth.”

 

He smiled, his expression warm. “I’m rather thankful that your father was such a git, love.”

 

Tara returned his smile, knowing exactly what he meant. She couldn’t help but be grateful that she’d found another family, thousands of miles away from the small, isolated town that had been her home.

 

This was home now.

 

~~~~~

 

“You ready to go?” Buffy asked, poking her head through Willow’s door.

 

Willow glanced up. “I don’t think I’m going.”

 

“What?” Buffy asked. “You were the one who said we should go. I thought Tara was going to be there.”

 

Willow shrugged. “She is.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Okay, Will. What’s going on?”

 

Willow hesitated, then said slowly, “You know how Tara came back with me the other night?”

 

Buffy nodded, hiding the flash of jealousy she felt. She really was happy for Willow and Tara if they were working things out, but she missed being in a relationship. It had been a long time since she hadn’t been involved with someone—and she included her relationship with Spike, because they had definitely been involved.

 

“Things weren’t the same,” Willow admitted. “I mean, we tried, and it was okay, but… It wasn’t like it used to be.”

 

“Oh.” Buffy wasn’t sure what to say. She’d grown used to the idea of Willow being in a relationship with another girl; that wasn’t the issue. Buffy wasn’t sure what kind of advice to give about sleeping with another woman, though. “Did you guys talk about it?”

 

“I’ve been kind of avoiding her.” Willow made a face. “I just don’t know what to say, and I don’t think Tara does either. She left the next morning without saying much, and she didn’t even stay for breakfast.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Okay, but if you never talk to her again, you’re never going to be able to fix it,” she pointed out reasonably. “Do you have any idea what the problem might have been?”

 

“I don’t think she trusts me.” Willow’s face twisted, and there were tears in her eyes. “I don’t know how to get her to trust me again, Buffy.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know if there’s anything you _can_ do. Maybe she just needs more time.”

 

“How much time?” Willow demanded. “At some point, we have to decide if it’s going to work out, or if we’re going to try and move on, and I don’t know when that is. How do we know when we reach that point?”

 

“Maybe you don’t,” Buffy said. “Maybe you’ll have to ask Tara that, but that means you have to talk to her. You guys can’t keep avoiding each other and still hope it’s going to work out.”

 

Willow sighed. “You’re right.”

 

“So are you coming?” Buffy asked.

 

“I guess,” Willow said slowly. “Let me get dressed.”

 

Buffy left the room, heading across the hallway to Dawn’s room. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself?”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Please, Buffy. I’m not a little kid anymore, and Glory’s not after me. If you’re that worried, you can call Xander if you want.”

 

Buffy didn’t tell her sister that she wasn’t so sure about Xander staying with Dawn these days. She trusted him, but he’d been drinking a lot lately, and he was still really depressed; Xander was probably not the best companion for a teenage girl right now.

 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Buffy said. “You’ll call the cell if you have any problems, though?”

 

Dawn nodded. “I promise.”

 

“Good.” Buffy gave her a look. “And no one is coming over tonight, right?”

 

“No. Geez, Buffy, don’t you trust me?” Dawn asked.

 

Buffy smiled sweetly. “I trust you, but I’ve been sixteen.”

 

Dawn gave her a smile that was patently insincere. “And I’m not you.” Buffy rolled her eyes, not bothering to reply to that. “Hey, Buffy?”

 

“What?”

 

“If William is there, will you make sure he’s okay?” Dawn asked.

 

Buffy frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“I think he gets kind of nervous around people he doesn’t know.” Dawn’s eyes were serious. “And I think he’s been really sad lately. If Tara’s hanging out with Willow most of the time, he’s probably going to feel kind of lonely.”

 

Buffy winced. “I doubt that he’s going to want to hang out with me.”

 

“You never know,” Dawn said mysteriously, the tone of her voice telling Buffy that her sister might know something she didn’t. There was no way that Buffy was going to play into Dawn’s hands by asking, however.

 

The idea that William might not completely hate her was a nice one, though.

 

~~~~~

 

William very nearly turned right back around as soon as they entered the fraternity house; the crowd and noise was at once very familiar and very foreign.

 

The familiarity was not from pleasant association, however.

 

Tara had a tight grip on his arm, so there was no way he could turn tail and run, and he was left with no choice but to follow her into the crush. “Come on,” she said, steering him towards a table filled with drinks.

 

William could tell by the expression on her face that she was rethinking her plan but didn’t want to leave. He thought that he might understand, seeing as how Willow was supposed to be there, and Tara hadn’t spoken to her since that rather awkward night. If Tara didn’t show up, it might appear that she was avoiding the other girl, and she wasn’t.

 

Of course, the fact that Tara hadn’t spoken to her seemed to indicate that there might be some truth to that idea.

 

Still, Tara felt she had to at least make an appearance, and William was now along for the ride; he supposed he ought to make the best of it.

 

Tara handed him a beer, and William took a quick gulp, glancing around at the crowd, trying to see if there was anyone he knew there. “Hey, Tara.”

 

He turned to see a young woman about Tara’s age smiling at the both of them impartially. Her chin-length dark hair framed an impish face with big dark eyes. “Hi, Courtney,” Tara replied. “This is my roommate, William. William, this is Courtney. We have some classes together.”

 

Courtney smiled at him. “How did you guys meet?”

 

“We have mutual friends,” William replied.

 

Courtney gave him a curious look. “And you’re from England?”

 

“Yes,” William replied, anticipating her next question. “From London, actually, although I haven’t been back for quite some time.”

 

She nodded. “Do you like California?”

 

“It has its advantages,” he replied, not wanting to give too much away.

 

Courtney turned back to Tara, beginning to ask questions about one of the classes that they shared, as well as people that they knew. It didn’t take William long to figure out that Courtney was also gay, and that she liked Tara a great deal.

 

Judging from the expression on Willow’s face as she approached them, she knew it, too.

 

“Hey, guys,” Willow said uncertainly.

 

“Hey, Willow.” Tara’s expression was a mix of longing and reluctance; Courtney looked like she would have rather skipped the intrusion. “How are you?”

 

“Good,” Willow replied. “I missed you this week.”

 

“I missed you, too.”

 

William’s eyes met Courtney’s, and he raised an eyebrow, knowing that she sensed the same thing that he did: Willow and Tara might as well have been the only two people in the room for all the attention that they were paying to the others. Courtney shrugged in response. “Do you know anyone else here?” she asked.

 

William shook his head. “Not really.”  


“Come on,” she said. “I’ll introduce you around.” She gave him a sly grin. “I might even be able to find a straight woman for you.”

 

William’s head was soon whirling with all the faces and names; Courtney seemed to know just about everyone at the party, and she seemed happy to introduce him, even though he didn’t have much to say. Every time the glass in his hand was empty, William found himself with a full one, and at some point he realized that he’d lost track of how much he’d had to drink.

 

As a vampire, it had taken quite a bit of alcohol to affect him, but now his head was already swimming from the beer, and he was beginning to feel slightly unsteady on his feet. Courtney disappeared after a couple of hours, and William didn’t see Tara anywhere.

 

“William? Are you okay?”

 

He turned bleary eyes on Buffy, who was watching him with an expression of concern on her face. “What are you doing here?” he asked belligerently.

 

Buffy took him by the arm. “I came with Willow,” she replied. “Who left with Tara. Come on.”

 

“Get your hand off of me,” William hissed, still conscious of the surrounding people and not wanting to make a scene in front of strangers.

 

It seemed that even inebriated, he still held onto his Victorian upbringing. Somehow, that only served to heighten his anger.

 

He forced his way through the crowded room, out into the night air, weaving just slightly. “I think you might have had too much to drink,” Buffy observed.

 

“Leave me alone,” he snarled. “What do you care, anyway?”

 

Buffy gave him a long, searching look. “I don’t know, but I do.”

 

Her sincere answer took the wind out of his sails, leaving William feeling sick. “I think I should go home,” he said. “Tara—”

 

“Tara left with Willow, remember?” Buffy asked. “I’ll walk you home.”

 

William shook his head. “I drove. I can—”

 

“You’re not getting behind the wheel of a car when you’re drunk,” Buffy said sharply. “So don’t be an idiot.”

 

“I’m not a bloody idiot!” William shouted. When he saw some of the passers-by giving them curious stares, he lowered his voice. “You always did that. You always treated me like I was stupid, unless it suited your purposes to believe otherwise.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, sounding hurt.

 

William snorted. “When your ex-boyfriend came into town, you were quick to believe that I was capable of running an international weapons ring. When you discovered that someone had been spying on you, you were sure that I was the one who was behind it. And yet, you never seemed to think that I was intelligent enough to know my own mind, or my own heart. You told me that I didn’t know what I felt, that I couldn’t feel. Well, sod off, Buffy. I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”

 

He marched off, the drama of his exit only slightly diminished by his wavering steps. For a moment, William thought that Buffy would actually let him walk away, but she soon fell into step beside him. “You’re right.”

 

William didn’t want to talk to her. At all. He didn’t even want to acknowledge her presence, and he briefly wondered whether she’d walk him all the way back to his apartment while he maintained a stony silence.

 

“Telling you that your feelings weren’t real was mean.” Buffy spoke as though they were continuing their conversation, rather than her carrying it by herself. “I was using you to make myself feel better, and that wasn’t right.”

 

He felt himself softening slightly. “So what?”

 

“I was thinking that we could start over,” Buffy said, glancing up at him. “I mean, we have the same friends, and Dawn really likes you, so it might make things a little easier.”

 

William shrugged. “I don’t need a friend.”

 

“Everybody could use another friend,” Buffy pointed out.

 

He wasn’t going to do this again; William had told himself that he wasn’t letting another person in, and he certainly wasn’t going to have a relationship of any sort with Buffy. Tara and Dawn were okay; he knew that they didn’t treat him any differently than they had Spike. William could trust them.

 

He didn’t know that he could trust Buffy.

 

And yet—William had seen her with her friends. Spike had been watching her for years, and there was a very good reason that Buffy’s friends had remained loyal. When she wasn’t depressed and acting like a bitch, she was actually a pretty good person to have around.

 

“Maybe,” he said grudgingly. “We’ll see how it goes.”

 

There was a part of him that recognized those words as marking the beginning of the end.


	11. From the Top

**“…It’s all up in the air and we stand still to see what comes down/I don’t know where it is, I don’t know when, but I want you around/When it falls into place with you and I, we go from if to when/Your side and mine are both behind it’s indication/This is going to bring me clarity/This’ll take the heart right out of me/She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted/She is everything I want that I never knew I needed/This is going to bring me to my knees/I just want to hold you close to me…” ~The Fray, “She Is”**

 

William groaned as he awoke. His head was pounding, and his stomach felt as though it was going to rebel at any moment. He lay as still as possible, hoping that it would go away soon.

 

“Hangovers suck, don’t they?”

 

He dragged his pillow over his face. “Go away,” he muttered.

 

“Here.” He felt the bed move as Buffy sat down on the edge. “I’ve got a glass of water and a couple of aspirin with your name on them.” He didn’t move, hoping that she’d go away. “You’ll feel better.”

 

William sighed, sitting up reluctantly and peering at Buffy. “What are you doing here?”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Remember getting sick last night? I figured I’d better stay until Tara got home. Except that Tara apparently stayed with Willow again last night, so I took the couch. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

William could feel himself flushing as he remembered getting sick in the bushes just outside of his apartment building. Buffy had stayed with him even though he’d made a complete arse out of himself. “You didn’t have to stay.”

 

“I know,” she replied. “It just seemed like the friendly thing to do.”

 

He took the glass of water and aspirin she held out without further argument, swallowing the pills quickly. When he went to set the glass down, Buffy shook her head. “You need to keep drinking,” she said. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

 

William made a face, waiting to see whether or not he’d be able to keep even that much down, but after a few moments with no mishaps, he drained the rest of the glass. “You don’t have to stay if you’ve got somewhere to be.”

 

Buffy hesitated, and then she nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

 

“Buffy,” he called out as she exited his open bedroom door. “Thank you.”

 

She turned. “Anytime, William.”

 

The hot shower helped to clear his head, and he thought about Buffy’s actions; it seemed strange to him that she would stay, that she would be so kind. He certainly hadn’t asked her to do so, nor was there any reason for it.

 

Unless she meant what she said about being friends.

 

It hurt even to contemplate this possibility, to be honest. William hated the thought that Buffy would like him and not Spike; he really hadn’t changed _that_ much, and the fact that her attitude seemed to be changing indicated that her antipathy was a result of _what_ he was, and not _who_ he was.

 

William—Spike—hadn’t even meant to make the wish in the first place. His plan hadn’t been to change; it had been to get Buffy to admit that she loved him.

 

Or liked him. Spike would have settled for some small sign of affection.

 

In reality, it all boiled down to the fact that he had been a soulless vampire, and now he wasn’t. He just wished it didn’t matter as much as it did.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara lay beside Willow on the bed, her head propped on her hand. They had talked for most of the night. Although she’d had every intention of going home earlier, they had both fallen asleep in the midst of their conversation.

 

Nothing had been resolved. Tara still wasn’t sure that she could trust Willow, and Willow still didn’t understand why things weren’t better. Even so, Tara was convinced that she wanted this relationship to work somehow—she just didn’t know how.

 

How did you forgive someone, when they didn’t even seem to realize what they’d done wrong?

 

“I wish there was some way to go back,” Willow admitted. “To fix things.”

 

Tara frowned. “What would you fix?”

 

“I don’t know.” Willow sighed. “I—I want to say that I wouldn’t bring Buffy back, but…”

 

“Yeah.” Tara understood what Willow couldn’t say; maybe they shouldn’t have resurrected Buffy, but neither of them could wish for it to be undone. “It started before that, though.”

 

Willow frowned. “You mean before Buffy died? When we had that fight?”

 

“First fights are hard to forget.” Tara gave her a crooked smile. “I understand that you love magic, Willow.”

 

“I don’t!” Willow protested. “I can do without magic.”

 

Tara shook her head. “No, you really can’t. Right now, you think you can, but what happens when Buffy needs you, and you’re the only one who can save the day?”

 

“You—”

 

“I don’t have your strength,” Tara objected. “If Buffy walked in here right this moment and said that she needed you, that you were the only one who could save the world, wouldn’t you do it?” When Willow opened her mouth, Tara added, “Even if you knew it meant losing me?”

 

Willow’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes were troubled. “I don’t know.”

 

“You can’t walk away from the magic, Willow. It’s too much a part of who you are, but how can I trust you, when you don’t really understand why I left in the first place?” Tara watched her sort-of-girlfriend’s face for some sign that Willow really did understand, that she was really listening for the first time.

 

Willow rose from the bed, walking over to the window. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was so quiet that Tara could barely hear her. “You’re right, about the magic. I feel—I feel like half a person without it, but I know I can’t go back to what I was doing. I know it wasn’t right.”

 

Tara breathed a sigh of relief. Even if Willow didn’t know exactly what the issue was, at least she was admitting that there had been a problem. “I think you might need to get some training, sweetie.”

 

Willow frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“You go to school for everything else,” Tara pointed out. “I learned from my mom since I was small.”

 

“There are books,” Willow objected. “I can learn everything I need to know from them.”

 

Tara held her eyes with a steady gaze. “Look where that got us.”

 

Willow’s eyes flashed, and Tara braced herself for an angry retort. Instead, Willow’s voice dropped again. “If I do this, does that mean you’ll trust me again?”

 

Tara swallowed, knowing that she might be dooming them with her next words. “I don’t know. I guess that would depend on what happened afterwards.”

 

Willow grimaced and turned away from her again. “I need to get ready for classes.”

 

Tara closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

 

Willow didn’t respond to her, and Tara thought that she might have lost any chance of making things between them right again.

 

She wasn’t going to back down again, though.

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, guys!” Dawn chirped as she entered the apartment. William and Tara glanced up at her, and their long faces stopped her in her tracks. “Okay, what’s up?”

 

“Nothing, Dawn,” William said, obviously forcing a smile. “You’re cheerful today.”

 

“I have a date,” she reminded him. “I am no longer the only person I know without a boyfriend.”

 

Tara raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she pointed out. “And neither does William.”

 

That got a real smile out of William, and Dawn rolled her eyes, hiding her own smile. “Whatever. Anyway, Buffy took me shopping, and I talked her into this _really_ short skirt that’s going to make Eric’s eyes pop.”

 

William sat up straight, pinning her with a glare. “You are wearing no such thing,” he said. “Boys want one thing from nice girls like you, and one thing only.” He frowned. “Has Buffy said anything to you about fending off unwanted advances? Because I could come along if you like, to make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

 

“Don’t you dare!” Dawn said, aghast—mostly because she thought that he might actually do it. “And I was joking about the skirt. It’s not _that_ short. Buffy’s already told me all about getting rid of boys with grabby hands, so I’m good.”

 

“He’s a nice boy, William,” Tara said. “We met him the other night at the Bronze, after you left with Buffy.”

 

“Speaking of,” Dawn said, sensing an opportune moment to change the subject. “What’s with you and Buffy?”

 

He shrugged. “Nothing. We’re on friendly terms, is all.”

 

Dawn raised her eyebrows. “Friendly terms, huh?”

 

“We’ve come to an understanding.” William gave her a sharp look. “How do you know?”

 

Dawn gave him a smug smile. “If you want the truth out of my sister, you take her shopping. She talks a lot more that way.”

 

William’s expression grew guarded. “What did she say about me?”

 

“She didn’t _say_ anything,” Dawn admitted. “But she asked a lot of questions.”

 

He didn’t look particularly excited at the thought. “Probably wanting to be sure I’m not corrupting you.”

 

Dawn’s unladylike snort told them what she thought of that theory. “Please, William. She was asking questions like I was asking people about Eric.”

 

He frowned. “I thought you said that you know this boy.”

 

“Argh!” Dawn gestured at Tara. “You explain it.”

 

Tara had been trying hard to hide her snickers throughout the conversation, and wasn’t having much success. “William, women ask questions about people that they’re interested in. If Willow and I had had mutual friends when we met, I would have asked them what they knew about her. It’s just a way to gather information.”

 

“What does she want with me?” William asked.

 

“He—heck if I know,” Dawn said, changing course mid-word at the sharp look Tara was giving her. “Maybe you should ask her.”

 

“I don’t think so,” he said, rising. “If you’ll excuse me, I promised Daniel I’d look after the shop this afternoon.”

 

Dawn watched him go. “Okay, what was all that about?”

 

Tara sighed. “I think he’s scared.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Falling in love again.” Tara smiled, her expression bittersweet. “I can sympathize.”

 

Dawn moved closer to Tara on their couch and rested her head on the older girl’s shoulder. “Is it worth it?”

 

“Is what worth it?”

 

“Falling in love?”

 

“Yes,” Tara responded without hesitation. “Even with everything that’s happened, I’m not sorry for it.”

 

Dawn just rested there, thinking about that. It was too early to tell whether or not she was even going to end up liking Eric in a serious way, but Dawn thought it would be nice to be in love.

 

At least, until it all went wrong.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles hadn’t found it easy to get his hands on books that would help him determine what exactly had happened to Spike. Of course, he knew that a vampire had become human, but Giles was more interested in the metaphysical aspect.

 

The Council had always maintained that when a human was turned, the soul departed, and the demon took possession. Giles had accepted that theory, because it seemed to explain matters sufficiently, and because he hadn’t seen a need to look into it more deeply. Vampires were evil, and the Slayer staked them, and that was an end to the matter.

 

His curiosity had been piqued, however, and Giles wanted a better explanation.

 

What Anya had said—about demons having souls—was causing him to rethink a few things. Giles was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t gotten it wrong all these years; perhaps demons were evil because of what they did, and not what they were.

 

It seemed a subtle distinction, but he had a feeling that it was an important one.

 

“Hello, Rupert.”

 

Anya’s voice caused him to smile as he glanced up; she was one of the main reasons that Giles needed to know the truth. For his own peace of mind, Giles needed to know what getting involved with a demon would mean.

 

Although, it was probably too late at this point; he was already involved.

 

“Hello, Anya,” he replied. “How have you been?”

 

“Good!” she said brightly. “I just granted the most intriguing vengeance wish. This girl wished that her cheating boyfriend would always have girls cheat on him. I thought it was fitting.”

 

“It does seem so,” Giles agreed neutrally. It made him uncomfortable to hear Anya talking about cursing men, but at the same time, he wasn’t going to ask her not to tell him. Giles had a feeling that he would rather know, and at least she hadn’t disemboweled anyone yet.

 

Anya sighed. “I think I’m going to have to talk to D’Hoffryn, though.”

 

“About what?” Giles asked.

 

She shook her head. “The job doesn’t have the same appeal as it used to. I much prefer the challenges of capitalism. I might be able to convince him that taking people’s money is vengeance enough—or maybe I could specialize in ex-wives and show them how to take their ex-husbands’ money.”

 

“How did you lose your powers the first time?” Giles asked.

 

Anya raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

 

“Why would I?” he responded. “I don’t think you ever told me, and if you told Xander, he certainly didn’t pass along the information.”

 

“You were the one responsible for me becoming human,” Anya replied, watching him carefully.

 

Giles sat back in his chair. “I don’t understand. I have no memory of it.”

 

“That’s because _you_ weren’t there,” Anya explained, rather unhelpfully. “Cordelia made a wish—that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale. You figured out that I was the one behind the wish, and you destroyed my locket, which resulted in me becoming human and the wish being undone.”

 

“I see.” Giles mulled over that a bit. “What was Sunnydale like without Buffy?”

 

Anya hesitated. “It wasn’t a place anyone would want to live.” She didn’t say more than that.

 

“Do you regret it?” he asked hesitantly.

 

“No.” Anya gave him a wistful smile. “Once I got used to it, being human wasn’t so bad.”

 

“Would you want to be human again?”

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Her hand went to the pendant at her throat of its own accord. “Sometimes.”

 

There was something in her eyes that tugged at him, Giles thought. The shadow of sorrow, perhaps, that said that even with Spike’s wish, not everything was okay. “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?” he asked impulsively.

 

“Yes, I would,” Anya replied. “I would like that very much.”

 

Meeting her eyes, Giles wondered if perhaps it was better not to question, and just accept.

 

~~~~~

 

“Is everything okay?” Xander asked. Buffy had decided to patrol before meeting them at the Bronze. It was supposed to be just the three of them—the core Scoobies. It had been a long time since they had all been single at once, not since before Buffy had been dating Angel, and Xander thought it was kind of a nice change.

 

“It’s fine,” Willow said, waving a hand in dismissal.

 

Xander frowned. “Come on, Will. You haven’t been your usual cheerful self this evening.”

 

“Tara and I talked last night,” Willow admitted slowly. He was silent, waiting for her to continue. “She wants me to do something, like a gesture of faith, before we get back together.”

 

That didn’t sound quite like Tara to Xander. He didn’t know her well, but he had a feeling that she wouldn’t ask Willow to jump through a bunch of hoops before giving their relationship another chance. “Is that really what she said?”

 

“No,” Willow admitted reluctantly. “It’s close, though.”

 

“Well, what did she want you to do?” Xander finally asked when it appeared as though Willow wasn’t going to continue.

 

“She wanted me to get some training, for the magic.”

 

Xander was having a hard time seeing what was so bad about that. After some of the stunts that Willow had pulled, he didn’t think it was a bad idea. “Maybe that’s a good idea,” he ventured.

 

Willow stared at him. “You’re taking _her_ side?”

 

Xander began feeling very uncomfortable. “I didn’t think there were sides, Will. I just thought that you were interested in learning everything you could about magic. Remember when you tried to join the Wicca group on campus? Maybe it’s time for you to find some real witches to work with.”

 

Willow didn’t look at all appeased. “No one’s telling Tara that she needs help.”

 

Xander was having a hard time understanding why Willow’s reaction was so strong. “Tara didn’t erase all our memories,” Xander pointed out. “And she didn’t have anything to do with Dawn’s arm getting broken.”

 

Willow rose, glaring at him. “You’re still blaming me for those things? Can’t you let it go?”

 

“You were the one who was wondering why we weren’t telling Tara that she needs help,” Xander said, not wanting to back down from this. They had all done some pretty shitty things over the last few months, and maybe they had all gotten off pretty lightly, all things considered. But he was miserable as a result of his mistakes, and Willow was acting as though she hadn’t done anything wrong, as though Tara was the one who had messed up.

 

It pissed Xander off.

 

“Some friend you are,” Willow said. “I need your support, and you tell me it’s my own fault.”

 

“If the shoe fits,” Xander shot back.

 

Willow pushed back from the table. “I think I’m going home. I don’t need to hear this.”

 

He didn’t reply, but he was thinking that she definitely needed to hear it. As he thought about it, Xander could recall a number of other occasions when Willow had insisted that she knew best, and she wouldn’t hear a word to the contrary. In the past, he’d accepted it, mostly because she was smarter than he was, and Xander thought that she might know best.

 

Not this time, though. Xander didn’t think it would do her any harm to get further training, and he thought that Tara might be right to insist upon some show of faith on Willow’s part. If he thought he had any chance of getting back together with Anya, Xander would fully expect to have to do some groveling of his own, plus make some tangible demonstration of his willingness to go through with the wedding.

 

Not that he thought it was even a remote possibility.

 

“Hey, Xander,” Buffy said as she came up to the table. “Where’s Willow? I thought it was supposed to be the three of us tonight.”

 

“She already left,” Xander said, briefly explaining their earlier conversation.

 

Buffy frowned. “Am I missing something? Because I thought Willow would do just about anything to get Tara back.”

 

Xander felt disloyal for even thinking it, let alone saying it, but… “I think Willow wants to believe that she can do this completely on her own. She can’t admit that she’s not perfect and that she might need help.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Willow came to me for help after Dawn broke her arm.”

 

“She was at the end of her rope, Buffy,” Xander said. “If she hadn’t gone to you, would you have let her stay in the house?”

 

“No,” Buffy admitted slowly. She sighed. “Crap. What are we going to do?”

 

“I don’t think we can do anything,” Xander replied unhappily. “This is going to have to be something Willow figures out on her own.”


	12. The Best Intentions

**“Red lights are flashing on the highway…I wonder if we’re gonna ever get home tonight/Everywhere the water’s getting rough/Your best intentions may not be enough …I don’t know nothing except change will come/Year after year what we do is undone/Time keeps on moving from a crawl to a run/I wonder if we’re gonna ever get home/You’re out there walking down a highway/And all of the signs got blown away/Sometimes you wonder if you’re walking in the wrong direction/But if you break down/I’ll drive out and find you/If you forget my love/I’ll try to remind you/And stay by you when it don’t come easy…” ~Patty Griffin, “When It Don’t Come Easy”**

 

“I’d probably better get home,” Dawn said regretfully, hating that the evening had to come to an end. She didn’t think that Eric was her one true love or anything like that, but he was funny and sweet and cute.

 

Besides, as far as Dawn was concerned forever-type love was overrated, seeing as how it usually ended with people getting their hearts broken. How many times had she seen it just with her sister, not to mention all her sister’s friends?

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want your sister to decide you couldn’t see me anymore,” Eric replied, turning with her in the direction of her house. “Unless you don’t want to see me anymore, and then we could stay out as late as you want.”

 

Dawn laughed. “No, I wouldn’t mind going out again.”

 

“Good,” he said. “The Homecoming dance isn’t that far away, and I kind of wanted to go this year, since it’s my last chance.”

 

“Didn’t you go last year?” Dawn asked.

 

Eric shook his head ruefully. “No one would go with me last year.”

 

Dawn wracked her brain for any memories of Eric from the previous year and couldn’t come up with anything. Of course, that had been before Buffy came back, and she’d been too lost in her grief—and trying to pretend not to grieve—to pay much attention to anyone but herself. “I don’t remember that.”

 

He shrugged. “Six inches will do a lot for a guy. It definitely cuts down on getting shoved inside lockers.”

 

“You never got shoved in a locker,” Dawn said.

 

“No, but I have friends who did.” He looked a little abashed. “It’s weird hanging out with the jocks this year, you know?”

 

“Who did you hang out with before?”

 

Eric gave her a serious look. “You have to promise not to tell.”

 

“I promise,” Dawn replied, very curious now.

 

“The chess club.”

 

Dawn’s eyes widened. “Really?”

 

“Well, I take karate, too, and Avery and I had the same teacher when we were younger. Now that he isn’t so ashamed to be seen with me, he’ll actually let me hang out with them.”

 

Dawn suddenly understood. Avery was the high school star-everything. From baseball, to football, to basketball, he seemed to do it all. He was also the coolest guy around, and to be accepted by Avery meant that you were in. The fact that Avery had decided that Eric was cool meant that Eric was part of the in-crowd.

 

Even if he really wasn’t.

 

“Do you even like them?” Dawn asked.

 

“Not really,” he admitted. “Some of the guys are okay, but mostly they just like to lie about how great they are.”

 

Dawn raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t have to lie?”

 

Eric’s smile was lop-sided. “Why would I? They wouldn’t believe me anyway.” Then he grinned. “Besides, I figure the only two people in the world who need to know how good I really am is me—and you.”

 

His kiss was sweet and pleasantly demanding. Dawn wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his hands at her back. A little voice in the back of her head told her that she should probably put the brakes on before Buffy saw them, but she wasn’t paying much attention to that voice right at the moment.

 

The porch light went on, and Dawn pulled back, looking up to see Buffy watching them from the stairs. “Hi, Dawn. You’re right on time.”

 

Dawn sighed. Just when things were starting to get good. “Hey, Buffy.”

 

Buffy looked at Eric. “Do you have a ride home?”

 

“No, but I’ll be fine,” he replied. “I don’t live too far from here.”

 

“I can give him a ride, Buffy,” Tara said, coming out the front door. “I need to be getting home anyway. Hi, Eric.”

 

“Hey,” he said, obviously a little uncomfortable with being the center of attention. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Dawn.”

 

She watched him leave with Tara, and then mounted the stairs to stand by her sister. “You didn’t have to turn the light on.”

 

“Of course I did,” Buffy responded. “It was fun.”

 

Dawn gave her a sour look. “Was Tara visiting Willow?”

 

“No, actually, we were talking,” Buffy said. “Willow was studying late tonight, and I ran into Tara on campus earlier, and… She wants Willow to get some training before she’ll get back together with her, and Xander and I both think that it’s a good idea. I’m thinking about calling Giles and seeing if he knows of any options. Maybe if he talks to Willow, she’ll think about it.”

 

“She wasn’t real thrilled with the idea, huh?” Dawn asked.

 

“Not hardly,” Buffy agreed. “And when Xander said that he thought it might be a good idea, she got upset. I think it has to be her choice, but I think it’s a good idea, especially after that patrol the other week.”

 

Dawn frowned. “Willow hasn’t used magic since, though, has she?”

 

“That’s not the point, Dawnie,” Buffy replied. “We might need her to later, but if she doesn’t know how, or if she’s not practicing, things could get very bad. I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve already got enough to worry about.” Changing the subject, Buffy asked, “How was your date?”

 

Dawn couldn’t help but wonder if William was one of those things that her sister was worrying about, but now was obviously not the time to ask. “It was really good. I think he’s going to ask me to Homecoming.”

 

Dawn just hoped that Eric proved himself to be a little different than her sister’s boyfriends.

 

~~~~~

 

William glanced at the list Tara had given him. She had been teaching him how to cook, but he’d allowed her to do most of the shopping until now. Tara had informed him that they needed a number of things at the store, and she didn’t have time to get them, so he was nominated.

 

The fresh vegetables and fruits were easy enough; he knew what to look for there. The other items were more difficult to select with so many choices, and William knew that Tara had preferences, but he wasn’t sure what they would be.

 

“Having some trouble?”

 

William glanced over at Buffy, who was looking up at him in amusement, and he could feel his face flushing. “No. I have a list.”

 

“Okay.” She started wandering away, her basket over her arm, and William realized that he didn’t want her to leave.

 

“Do you know anything about spaghetti sauce?” he asked. “Tara said to get a jar, but I don’t know which kind.” William gestured to the shelves, filled with all manner of sauces in a variety of brands, all professing to be authentic.

 

Buffy made a face. “Honestly? I usually get the cheapest kind. Tara can probably add stuff to it to make it taste better if she wants to. Mom used to do that sometimes.”

 

“Right.” William grabbed a random jar and put it in his basket.

 

Buffy glanced at his list over his arm. “What else do you have to get?”

 

“Canned goods, flour, sugar, and milk,” he replied. “What about you?”

 

She gave him a rueful smile. “You haven’t had my cooking,” she observed. “I’m heading to the frozen foods. I think I can find something there I can’t ruin.”

 

William frowned. “Did you drive over here?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No. I still haven’t gotten my license. I keep meaning to do that, but something always comes up.”

 

He couldn’t believe he was even thinking about it, but William made the offer anyway. “Can I offer you a ride?”

 

“If it’s not out of your way.” She sounded uncertain, as though she didn’t want to impose.

 

It was out of his way, technically speaking, but William didn’t mind so much. Besides, he still owed her for staying with him while he was sick. “No, I don’t mind.”

 

“Dawn said that you got a job,” Buffy said as they headed down the next aisle. “How is it?”

 

William shrugged. “It’s not so bad. It’s quiet.”

 

“That’s probably a nice change.”

 

“I do a lot of reading,” he admitted.

 

Buffy nodded, not looking particularly surprised. “What kind of books?”

 

“Anything, really,” William replied. He was beginning to relax, wondering if maybe they hadn’t made a new start. “I’m reading _Alas, Babylon_ now, because Daniel recommended it.”

 

Buffy glanced up at him. “Who’s Daniel?”

 

“My employer.” They lapsed into companionable silence, and William wondered why it couldn’t have always been like this. Why did it have to go so wrong?

 

Why hadn’t she been able to accept Spike’s love?

 

“How are you doing?” Buffy asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

 

William didn’t know how to reply to that, not knowing whether to give her the truth or an easy lie. He could say that he was fine, that he was adjusting without any problems, and therefore avoid any further questions on the matter. Or, he could tell her the truth, a truth he didn’t know that she cared to hear.

 

Buffy had never wanted the truth from him in the past; what was more, she hadn’t accepted it.

 

“I’m fine.” He strove to make his tone politely cheerful.

 

Buffy didn’t reply right away, then said, “You know, that’s how I always said ‘I’m fine’ when I didn’t want anybody to know how not fine I was.” She glanced up at him. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

 

William tensed, feeling a rising anger. Why the _hell_ was she being so nice to him? He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t trust it. “I don’t want to,” he ground out.

 

“Okay.”

 

He could feel her hurt, and he knew that Buffy didn’t understand where his anger was coming from, but he remembered how she had treated Spike. He knew that even though they wore the same face, Buffy thought of them as two different people because _William_ had a heartbeat and a soul. _William_ was worthy of her time and kindness the way _Spike_ never had been.

 

It hurt, even if he wasn’t Spike any longer.

 

“It’s hard to know how to act around you,” William admitted, watching the shock flit over her features at his words. “You’re a lot nicer to me than you’ve been in the past. It’s not something I expect.”

 

Buffy frowned. “You’re different.”

 

“Not enough to make it matter,” he responded, trying to keep his tone level, knowing that she wouldn’t listen if he became angry or seemed unreasonable. William needed her to listen to him, needed to know if she would.

 

Buffy opened her mouth to respond immediately, probably in anger, but she stopped. “I know.”

 

That was all she said, but it was enough for William that she had acknowledged that he was right about something for a change. They did the rest of their shopping together, but without talking. William wondered what an observer would see, what someone who didn’t know their rather complicated history would think.

 

Once they had checked out, Buffy joined him where he waited for her by the entrance. “You don’t have to give me a ride,” she said. “I know I make you uncomfortable.”

 

William sighed. She did and she didn’t, but he didn’t know how to explain his feelings to Buffy. How could he when he didn’t understand them himself? “I offered,” he replied. “I don’t mind.”

 

The trip to her house was silent, mostly because William couldn’t find any way to breach it. They had nothing in common anymore, not really, not now that he couldn’t share in the hunt and the violence. The only thing they shared was Dawn, and that wasn’t enough to base a relationship on.

 

Any kind of relationship.

 

“I wish things could have been different,” Buffy said, just before she got out of the car. “Between us, I mean.”

 

William met her eyes, oddly grateful for her words. “I do, too.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander walked into the Magic Box, feeling strange. He hadn’t seen Anya in weeks—no, months—not since she’d come back and he’d tried to apologize. His words had been horribly inadequate; he could see that now.

 

He wasn’t even that angry at Spike—William—anymore. If he hadn’t left Anya at the altar, she wouldn’t have felt the need to become a vengeance demon again, and then Spike wouldn’t have made the wish. Xander was finally beginning to accept that he had been the one to screw the entire thing up, no one else.

 

“Xander.” Tara’s voice was cautious when she saw him, and he hated the wary look in her eyes. It was obvious that she was remembering his outburst at the Bronze, the words he’d tried to skewer William with. “Can I help you find something?”

 

“I was looking for Anya,” he said honestly. “Have you seen her today?”

 

“She went out for a while,” Tara replied. “I don’t know when she’s coming back.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Xander hesitated. “Look, what I said the other night was out of line.”

 

Some of the wariness eased out of her face. “I don’t think I’m the one you need to apologize to.”

 

Xander winced. “Yeah, but William isn’t here, so…”

 

“Tara? Is he bothering you?”

 

It was just his luck; Xander wasn’t surprised at all when he turned around to see William standing there, the expression on his face hostile. “No, he’s not bothering me,” Tara said. “I think he might have wanted to say something to you, though.”

 

Xander closed his eyes, briefly wishing for the floor to open and swallow him up, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of apologizing now, and not really wanting to. He hated saying that he was sorry, mostly because it just underscored how much of an idiot he could be at times.

 

When a few tense seconds passed without a convenient hole appearing, Xander sighed, deciding to plunge right in. “I’m sorry for what I said the other night, William. I was out of line.”

 

The apology was almost worth it, just to see the utter shock on William’s face. The other man had apparently not been expecting him to do anything of the sort, and Xander got a kind of pleasure out of being able to surprise him.

 

“I, uh, right.” William took a deep breath. “Let’s forget about it.”

 

“Done.” Xander glanced back at Tara. “Buffy and I talked to Willow. We think you’re right, about her getting some training. I think Buffy’s going to discuss it with Giles, and maybe he can convince her that it’s a good idea.”

 

Tara gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you, Xander.”

 

“No problem.” Xander left the shop feeling a little lighter. Maybe he’d ruined his relationship with Anya, but that didn’t mean that he had to send the rest of his life to hell with it.

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you going to be home for dinner tomorrow?” Tara asked.

 

William glanced up from his book. “I believe so. Daniel wants me to watch the shop in the morning so he can go fishing, but I’ll be free in the afternoon. Why?”

 

“Dawn wanted to come over for dinner.” Tara flipped through her coupons, pulling out another one that had expired. “I guess Eric has a class of some sort that night, and so they can’t hang out.”

 

“She’s been spending a lot of time with him,” William observed, sounding disgruntled.

 

Tara smiled indulgently. “She likes him, William. That’s what happens.”

 

“Aren’t they moving a little fast?” he asked plaintively. “Dawn’s still young. I don’t see why she has to date anyway.”

 

“Because she’s young and she wants to fit in,” Tara said. “And because she likes him. Eric is nice.”

 

William muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “He’s still not good enough for her,” but Tara decided not to respond. “Maybe we should invite Buffy, too,” he suggested out loud.

 

Tara’s eyebrows went straight up. She knew that Buffy had walked William home from the party, and that she’d stayed the night at their apartment to make sure he was okay. Tara also knew that Buffy’s feelings had changed. When they had spent the evening together the previous week, Buffy had asked more than a few questions about him.

 

Tara wondered if William’s feelings were beginning to change as well.

 

“Why?” she asked bluntly. “I thought you didn’t want to see her.”

 

William colored, looking away and refusing to meet her eyes. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 

“William,” Tara said, wishing that his feelings weren’t so easily hurt at times. “I don’t care if you want to invite Buffy. I would have done it before, but I didn’t think you wanted to spend time with her.”

 

He shook his head, rising to walk over to the window, every line in his body giving away his tension. “She’s been kind to me of late.”

 

Tara didn’t want to press the matter, given his reaction. “That’s fine. Do you want to cook, or should I?”

 

“Would you?” William asked. “If I cook…”

 

She thought she understood what he wasn’t saying—that it would look more like a date if he cooked for Buffy. “Only if you clean up.”

 

“Of course,” William said immediately, giving her a winsome smile. “Do you—” He stopped, either unable or unwilling to complete his question.

 

Tara gave him an encouraging smile. “Do I what?”

 

“Do you think people can truly start again?” William asked.

 

She didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes, I do.”

 

She had to believe it.


	13. Brand New Day

**“Why do you look so familiar?/I could swear that I have seen your face before./I think I like that you seem sincere/I think I’d like to get to know you a little bit more…I think there’s something more, life’s worth living for/Who knows what could happen?/Do what you do, just keep on laughing/One thing’s true, there’s always a brand new day/I’m gonna live today like it’s my last day…” ~Avril Lavigne, “Who Knows?”**

Willow had been wrestling with what Tara had asked of her for days now. There was a part of her that wanted to give in, that wanted to do anything, if it meant a chance that Tara would trust her again. The other part of her was indignant that anyone thought _she_ needed help; Willow had been figuring things out on her own for years now. She didn’t need any help.

 

Somehow it didn’t surprise her when Giles called the house wanting to speak with her. Buffy hadn’t said anything, but Willow knew that she’d talked to Tara, and she remembered what Xander had said. It only made sense that they would try some sort of intervention.

 

“How are you, Willow?” Giles asked.

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, already feeling as though she was on the defensive. Willow had been feeling defensive a lot lately, mostly because she knew that she was probably in the wrong.

 

“Buffy called me the other day. She told me that you were thinking about getting some training.” Giles sounded tentative, probably remembering the last time he had confronted her about her magic use.

 

Willow grimaced. “That’s what she told you, huh?”

 

“Was she not right?”

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Tara wants me to get more training.”

 

Giles was quiet for a long moment. “But is it what _you_ want, Willow?”

 

“I don’t see why I need it.”

 

The long pause on Giles’ end was evidence enough that he felt much the same as the others did; while she might not understand why she needed further instruction, everyone else did. “That will have to be your decision,” he finally said. “I have spoken to the head of the coven here, who’s a personal friend of mine. She’s willing to take you on as a student, but only if it’s something you decide that you need.”

 

Willow took a breath. “When do I have to make my decision?”

 

“There’s no hurry,” Giles assured her. “I understand that you may want to finish out the school year.”

 

“At least the semester,” Willow replied. “I’ll think about it.” They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Giles told her that he’d call again when he knew that Buffy and Dawn were in.

 

Willow had to wonder if she wasn’t being stupid. If everybody she knew thought that there was something wrong, something that she just wasn’t getting, maybe they were right. Maybe more training would be good. It could help her to become a stronger witch, and that would only help Buffy in the long run.

 

Perhaps she would even be able to get back the power she’d lost.

 

The problem was that Willow had been teaching herself for a long time now, and the idea of learning witchcraft from someone else galled her. Willow had more power than most people, and she’d seen what being gifted did: it led others to envy you.

 

And when others envied you, they often tried to squash you. Willow had had quite enough of being squashed.

 

“Hey, Willow,” Dawn said, sticking her head through the kitchen door. “I’m going to William’s.”

 

“Okay,” Willow called back. “Does Buffy know?”

 

“She’s meeting me there,” Dawn replied. She winced, probably realizing that her words made it rather obvious that Willow hadn’t been invited. “I’m sure you could come too, if you wanted,” Dawn quickly said. “I could call, and—”

 

“No,” Willow said quickly. “That’s okay. I have something else going on tonight anyway.”

 

“Okay,” Dawn said dubiously, but she didn’t argue, and Willow soon heard the front door close behind her.

 

Was that what this meant? If she didn’t do this thing—if she didn’t accept training from this coven—she was going to end up losing her friends?

 

Willow frowned. “Maybe they’ll just end up losing me,” she muttered, but she didn’t really mean it. She wasn’t worth much without her friends; it was the one thing she knew for sure.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn felt awful about spilling the beans about Tara’s dinner invitation. It wasn’t terribly unusual for her to go over at least once or twice a week, but the fact that Buffy was invited as well made it appear as though they were purposely trying to exclude Willow.

 

As far as Dawn knew, that wasn’t the case at all. The simple fact was that she’d planned on going over to give Tara (and William) the dish about Eric and the upcoming Homecoming dance, and then Tara had suggested she invite her sister. The way Tara had said it made Dawn wonder if the invitation hadn’t come more from William, which Dawn felt was really exciting.

 

If William and Buffy did get together, it would be awesome, and she wouldn’t feel as though she was split in two anymore.

 

“Hello, Dawn,” William said when he let her in. “How was school?”

 

“Good,” Dawn replied, nearly bursting with the news now that she’d arrived. “Where’s Tara?”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re not excited to see me?”

 

“I have news!” she protested. “And I can’t tell it until everybody’s here.”

 

“Tara’s still at class,” he explained. “She said she’d be here as soon as she could, but that their lab was taking longer than expected.”

 

Dawn frowned, more than a little concerned. “Then who’s cooking?”

 

“Me.”

 

Her eyes widened comically. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

 

William glared at her. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” he finally said, his tone carefully even as he headed back into the kitchen.

 

Dawn sensed that she might have hurt his feelings. “Oh, come on, William. Tara’s always the one who cooks when I’m here.”

 

William was stirring something on the stove, and to Dawn’s surprise, it smelled really good. “That doesn’t mean that I’m completely incapable.”

 

She frowned. “Okay, I don’t think I implied that you’re _completely_ incapable. Trust me, if you lived with my sister, you’d know you have to be suspicious about unknown cooks.” William didn’t appear to be appeased, and Dawn began to get a little worried. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

“You don’t sound that convincing.”

 

“I don’t want to discuss this with you, Dawn!” William snapped.

 

“Discuss what?” Dawn snapped back. “We aren’t discussing anything. You’re just getting pissy over nothing.”

 

He froze, the spoon he’d been using to taste the sauce stopping halfway to his mouth. After a moment, William finished his taste test and put the utensil in the sink. “I’m sorry.”

 

Since William really did sound apologetic, Dawn didn’t have a problem letting him off the hook, but she was confused. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

 

“What do you know about your sister’s feelings for me?”

 

Someone who didn’t know William well probably would have thought that the question came from out of left field, but Dawn understood immediately. Buffy had been inquiring about William a lot recently, and Dawn knew that her sister had spent a lot of time trying to decide what to wear after her shift at work.

 

“I think she likes you,” Dawn said bluntly. When his shoulders slumped, she raised her eyebrows. “You have a problem with that?”

 

“No, not really.” William turned to face her. “Am I really that different, Dawn?”

 

She knew what he meant without him having to clarify. “No. I don’t think so.”

 

“Then why does she not see that?”

 

The question was a plaintive one, and Dawn didn’t know how to respond. She got what he was saying. “I don’t know,” Dawn said. “Maybe she couldn’t see past the fangs.”

 

“How did you?” William asked. “You were never scared of me.”

 

Dawn shrugged. “You never gave me a reason to be, and my sister _is_ the Slayer.”

 

William met her eyes. “How do I do this?”

 

It was weird to be handing out advice to someone older; weird, but oddly exhilarating, as Dawn realized that William was asking for good reason. He wanted to know what she thought.

 

No one asked for her advice. Ever.

 

“I guess you just be yourself, and then figure out the rest as it comes,” she finally said. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll work.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Dawn couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t sound very certain of it.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara hurried home, wondering what she’d find when she got there. She had meant to be there earlier, to offer William a buffer if he needed it. Not that she thought that Buffy would hurt him, just that she knew how uncomfortable it could be to have dinner with an old flame.

 

Particularly when their past relationship had been that intense.

 

She was fairly sure that no one except for herself knew about Buffy’s liaison with Spike. Tara wondered if it would make it easier on both of them if the others knew. If the complicated mess that their relationship had become was common knowledge, they both might feel a little better.

 

Tara knew that William felt as though Buffy was still ashamed of him. He was both Spike and not-Spike, and therefore to have Buffy refuse to really acknowledge what they’d been together was a blow of sorts.

 

There was no way that Tara could offer either of them advice, however; her own relationship with Willow was too screwed up for that. She just hoped that they figured out a way to be happy.

 

If there was one thing Tara knew for sure, it was that William wasn’t truly happy.

 

What she found when she walked through the front door was a little surprising, although not disappointing. William, Buffy, and Dawn were all sitting down at the table, laughing. Buffy’s face was a little flushed, and she kept stealing sidelong glances at William, who kept looking over at her in return.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, as everyone turned to look at her.

 

“That’s okay,” William replied. “We haven’t started eating yet.”

 

Buffy smiled ruefully. “No, Dawn’s just been sharing my most embarrassing stories.”

 

“You should tell one about William, Tara,” Dawn urged.

 

William looked alarmed before Tara shook her head. “I don’t really have any stories.”

 

Dawn looked disappointed. “That’s no fun.”

 

William busied himself with pulling various dishes out of the oven. “Buffy could share a story about you,” he suggested mildly. “I’m sure she has a few.”

 

Buffy grinned, revenge in sight. “Oh, I so do. Remember that time when you were so sure that Santa had gotten stuck coming down the chimney?”

 

Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

 

William’s grin matched Buffy’s. “Do go on,” he urged politely.

 

“Well, she—”

 

“Buffy!”

 

Buffy snickered. “I’ll save it for another time,” she promised, looking at William.

 

“I’ll look forward to it.”

 

There was a short silence while Tara and Dawn watched the other two silently, noticing the sparks. It wasn’t hard to see that they were attracted to each other when every time their eyes met the rest of the world seemed to become extraneous to them.

 

Tara thought it no wonder her relationship with Spike had scared Buffy so much; her emotional state had not left her with enough energy to meet his intensity.

 

“What did you make for dinner?” Tara asked to break the silence that had fallen.

 

“Oh, just what we’d talked about,” he replied. “Roasted chicken and vegetables.”

 

It wasn’t long before they were eating, the near-silence around the tiny kitchen table evidence enough of William’s cooking abilities.

 

“This is really good,” Dawn finally said through a mouthful of chicken.

 

Buffy nodded enthusiastically. “It really is.”

 

William shrugged, looking bashful. “I learned everything I know from Tara.”

 

“Maybe Tara ought to give lessons,” Buffy joked. “Because there’s no way I could make something like this.”

 

Tara wanted to point out that it wasn’t terribly difficult, but she thought that might undermine his success. William was nothing if not modest, however. “It’s really not that hard,” he said. “Anyone could have done it.”

 

“Maybe you should teach Buffy, then,” Dawn suggested, looking at William.

 

William shook his head. “I’m sure that Buffy wouldn’t want to learn from me.”

 

“Why not?” Buffy asked.

 

He glanced over at her, and Tara could see the surprise on his face. “You would?”

 

“Well, if you don’t mind coming over sometime.” Buffy wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. “I think it would be fun.”

 

There was another uncomfortable pause as everyone waited to find out what William had to say to that. “I’d like that.”

 

Tara raised an eyebrow but said nothing, knowing how sensitive William could be. She also knew how dedicated he’d been to _not_ giving Buffy another chance, but it appeared that something had changed his mind. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was what had been missing from William that had always been present in Spike.

 

For almost as long as Tara had known him, Spike had been in love with Buffy, and that passion infused his entire being. The absence of passion had been noticeable.

 

Perhaps this was exactly what William had needed.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander entered the Magic Box, the bell over the door jangling cheerfully. He wondered if he’d finally be able to run into her. He’d been by at least twice since running into Tara and William, but Anya was never there when he was.

 

He couldn’t tell if it was because she was avoiding him, or if it was simply coincidence.

 

“I’ll be right with you!” Anya called from the back of the store.

 

Xander stayed silent, not wanting to let her know that he was the one waiting for her; he wasn’t sure that she’d want to see him.

 

When Anya came out, a minute or two later, she stopped as soon as she saw him. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you,” he replied. “Do you have a minute?”

 

“I’m a little busy today.”

 

Xander glanced around the shop; he was the only other person in there, and it was hard to tell just what was causing Anya to be so busy. “It won’t take long,” he promised.

 

Anya turned back to him and crossed her arms. “Okay. Go.”

 

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

 

Her expression didn’t change. “You already told me that.”

 

“I know,” Xander said, “but this time I mean it. I was really angry at Spike for making that wish, but if it helped you, I’m glad he made it.”

 

Anya’s face softened considerably. “Thank you, Xander.”

 

“How are you?” he asked, meaning the question. Xander wanted to know that she was doing okay; he was managing the pain well enough most days. The thought that made it bearable was that Anya was doing better.

 

“I’m doing well,” she replied. Anya hesitated. “I talked to D’Hoffryn about cutting back on the vengeance. I’m going almost completely capitalist now, helping women get money from their ex-husbands. I’ve thought about making an exception for Dawn and Buffy so they can squeeze their dad for back child support. It’s really very satisfying.”

 

“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath. Xander didn’t like the idea of Anya being a vengeance demon, but he’d figured out that it wasn’t his place to say anything. “That’s pretty much it. I just wanted to see how you were and apologize.”

 

“Okay.” Anya stared at him, obviously unsure of how to react to his overture.

 

“I’ll see you later,” he said, turning to leave, glad that he’d done what little he could to bridge the gap between them.

 

The bell jangled again as he left, and Xander thought that it had never sounded quite that final before.

 

He really needed a drink.

 

~~~~~

 

William walked them both to the door, and Buffy wished that Dawn wasn’t there so she could say something, set up a date, a time to see him. If Dawn wasn’t standing right there, Buffy could suggest that he come over in the next couple of days to teach her a few things about cooking.

 

“I left something in the living room,” Dawn suddenly announced. “I’ll just go get it.”

 

Buffy sometimes wondered if Dawn was psychic. “If you were really okay with teaching me how to cook, we could get together sometime.”

 

“I’d like that,” William admitted. “My schedule is flexible. When would you like to come over?”

 

“Why don’t you come over to our house?” Buffy suggested. “Our kitchen is bigger.”

 

William hesitated, then nodded. “All right. What day?”

 

“Dawn has a date Friday night,” Buffy said. “And I don’t have to work. How does that sound? Around six?”

 

“That would be fine.”

 

For a second, Buffy thought that he might kiss her, but then he pulled back as Dawn skipped up to them. “Okay, I’m ready.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride?” William asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I could use the walk. I ate way too much tonight.” She met his eyes, such a bright blue. He really had the most beautiful eyes; a girl could get lost in them.

 

“Be careful.”

 

“I’ll see you Friday.”

 

As they left, Dawn elbowed her in the side. “Was I smooth, or what?”

 

“Definitely ‘or what,’” Buffy replied. “I thought he was going to kiss me!”

 

“No way,” Dawn objected. “He’s a slow mover.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “He’s not that different from Spike.”

 

Dawn raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re finally figuring that out?”

 

Buffy shrugged uncomfortably, then admitted, “That’s one of the reasons that I’m attracted to him.”

 

Dawn stared at her. “You _liked_ Spike?”

 

Buffy decided that it might be time to tell Dawn the truth. “I slept with Spike.”

 

“You _what_?!”

 

“I slept with Spike,” Buffy said slowly. “But I broke things off before he made that wish.”

 

“When did you break it off?” Dawn asked.

 

Buffy sighed. “After Riley came back.”

 

“Why did you break up with him?” Dawn asked. “Did he do something to you?”

 

Buffy’s smile was rueful. It was refreshing to have a sister who immediately assumed that the other party was the one who had made the mistake, but that had always been true of them. She and Dawn would fight like cats and dogs, but let an outsider threaten them, and they were as thick as thieves. “No, he didn’t do anything. It was pretty much me. I didn’t love him.”

 

Dawn frowned. “But if you didn’t love him then, and you said that William isn’t that different… You shouldn’t pretend to like him, Buffy. He’s still kinda fragile, and he—”

 

“I like him, Dawn.” Buffy sighed. “I don’t know if there can ever be anything there, or if we even have enough in common to make a relationship work, but I like him. I liked Spike.” She shook her head. “I just figured it out too late.”

 

Dawn was silent for a long moment. “But now you’ve got a second chance.”

 

“I hope so,” Buffy replied. She really hoped so.


	14. A New Leaf

**“Restless tonight/’cause I wasted the light/Between both these times/I drew a really thin line/It’s nothing I planned/And not that you can/But you should be mine/Across that line/If I traded it all/If I gave it all away for one thing/Just for one thing/If I sorted it all out/If I knew all about this one thing/Wouldn’t that be something/I promise I might/Not walk on by/Maybe next time/But not this time/Even though I know/I don’t want to know/Yeah I guess I know/I just hate how it sounds…” ~Finger Eleven, “One Thing”**

 

Xander woke up the next morning and knew that his day was going to suck. Working around power tools with a hangover was about the worst punishment for drinking too much ever devised. He really ought to know better by now.

 

Rolling out of bed with a groan, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some cold water on his face, and he glanced into the mirror and was caught by his own reflection.

 

Xander saw his father.

 

How many times had he come out of his room in the morning, only to see his father stumbling into the bathroom, hung over from a night of drinking? How many times had he taken out a trash bag that was more than half full of bottles and cans?

 

“This has got to stop.”

 

The voice was his own, but it didn’t sound like him. For a moment, Xander had sounded like his other half—when he’d gotten split into two sides, and one half had embodied all of his strengths, and the other all of his weaknesses. He’d sounded like his stronger half.

 

Xander knew that he’d been acting like his weaker half for a while now.

 

Setting his jaw, he finished brushing his teeth and washing his face. Then, he went into the kitchen and took all of his beer out of the fridge, and the rest of his liquor out of the cabinets. Xander dumped it all into a trash bag and grabbed his keys, dumping the bag in the garbage on the way out to his car.

 

The vision he’d had before his wedding, the one that had caused him to change his mind about the wedding, had shown him nothing more and nothing less than his worst nightmare. Xander had seen it happen—had watched his parents grow to resent and even to hate one another over the years. He’d watched his mother get more and more beaten down, and his father more and more belligerent.

 

That was why he hadn’t hesitated to believe that the potential future he saw was possible.

 

The fact was that he didn’t have Anya anymore, and he never would again, but if he wanted to make something of his life—if he didn’t want to become his father—something needed to change. A start in the right direction would be to cut out the drinking.

 

“Rough night last night, Xander?” Mike called as he got to the site.

 

Xander shrugged. “Yeah, I ran into my ex. You know how that goes.”

 

Mike gave him a sympathetic nod. “Yeah. It sucks, man.”

 

“Yeah.” Xander gave him a lopsided smile. “Let’s get to work, huh?”

 

If nothing else, this made sense. If nothing else, Xander Harris was a good carpenter.

 

It was a place to start.

 

~~~~~

 

“Do you mind it?” Anya asked over a glass of wine at their favorite restaurant.

 

Giles could hardly believe that they had a favorite restaurant; he’d told her to pop in any time, and she’d taken him up on his offer. Then, he’d asked her to dinner, and she’d accepted his invitation. Now, they were having dinner together at least once a week, and sometimes more often than that. There was a part of him that wanted to ask her back to his place for more than just a nightcap, but he was still hesitant.

 

If he did decide to relocate to Sunnydale, how on earth was he going to explain his relationship with Anya? While Giles didn’t think he had to explain anything, there would still be uncomfortable questions.

 

Of course, Giles wasn’t sure that he _did_ want to move back to Sunnydale. Since his last trip, things in California seemed to be much improved, and his weekly phone calls were keeping him apprised of recent goings-on.

 

He never should have cut off all contact, that was certain.

 

“Do I mind what?” Giles asked, Anya’s question finally cutting through his own thoughts.

 

“Me being a vengeance demon.”

 

Giles blinked. “Why should it matter if I mind?”

 

“Aren’t we in a relationship?” Anya asked. “I just—never mind. Forget I said anything.”

 

“I don’t want to forget it.” Giles reached across the table for her hand. “What do you want to know?”

 

Anya frowned. “I’m just not sure what you want. You haven’t asked me to spend the night yet, and I thought that’s what you did.”

 

Giles smiled, bringing her hand up to his lips. “I wasn’t sure that you’d want to,” he said frankly. “I wanted to give you enough time to recover. After what happened with Xander…”

 

“That’s over,” Anya said. “It’s done. He came by the other day and apologized, and it didn’t hurt to see him. I don’t even really hate him anymore, although sometimes I still want to.”

 

He took a sip of his wine. “To answer your question, no. I don’t mind that you’re a vengeance demon. I don’t know if it’s going to interfere with our relationship, and I hope that it doesn’t, but I’m willing to cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 

“I’m working completely in dollars and cents now,” Anya confessed. “D’Hoffryn agreed that hitting men where it hurts generally involves going after their bank accounts. I’m getting quite the reputation for making deadbeat husbands and fathers pay up.”

 

Giles smiled. “I really don’t mind. As I said, I’m willing to cross that bridge when I come to it.”

 

“Then will you ask me to bed already?” Anya asked. “I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”

 

His expression was nothing short of predatory. “I’ll just have to make up for lost time, then.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey,” Eric said as Dawn slipped outside. “You know, I was planning on ringing the doorbell and everything.”

 

“Trust me, you don’t want to go in there right now,” Dawn replied. “My sister is going insane.”

 

He opened the passenger door for her and slid into the driver’s seat before asked, “Is there any particular reason, or is it just one of those days?”

 

“Well, my sister is always slightly insane,” Dawn replied, “but she’s got a dinner date tonight, and she’s freaking over what to wear. But she’s trying to pretend that she’s not freaking, which just makes it worse.”

 

Eric frowned. “Is her having a date that big of an event? I mean, I saw your sister. She looks like she’d have guys beating down the door.” At the look Dawn gave him, Eric held up a hand. “Not that anyone would look at her twice once they saw you.”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that formed. “Nice save. No, it’s a date with an old boyfriend. I think they might be getting back together.”

 

“That should make it easier, right?”

 

“Harder,” Dawn said. “There’s baggage. Like, a truck load of baggage.”

 

Eric smiled and reached for her hand. “No baggage here.”

 

“No,” Dawn agreed. “We’re traveling light.” She gave him a curious look. “Where are we going tonight?”

 

“I thought we’d have dinner with my parents.”

 

Dawn stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

 

He laughed. “They aren’t that scary.”

 

“Eric!” Dawn exclaimed. “I’d have done something different with my hair! Or worn a dress!” She looked down at her jeans. “You said casual!”

 

“It is casual,” Eric assured her. “And I was kidding. I thought we could go out to dinner and then watch a video at my place. My parents made me promise that I’d bring you home so they could meet you.”

 

Dawn grimaced. “No fair when I look hideous.”

 

He snorted. “Now you’re fishing for compliments.”

 

“I am not.” Dawn sighed. “Maybe a little.”

 

“You couldn’t look anything but beautiful.” Eric smiled at her, his hazel eyes sincere.

 

She beamed at him. “You’re getting really good at that.”

 

Eric just shrugged. “I’ve been practicing in front of the mirror.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Do you think I should bring flowers?”

 

Tara glanced up at him. “What?”

 

William wiped his already-sweaty hands on his khaki pants. “Do you think I should take her flowers?”

 

She shrugged. “Do you want to bring flowers?”

 

“I don’t know. Would they send the wrong message?” William caught the suspicious twinkle in Tara’s eye. “This isn’t funny.”

 

“It really kind of is, sweetie,” she replied. “If you want to bring flowers, or if it would make you more comfortable, then I think you should.”

 

He shook his head. “If it were a date, then I would bring flowers, but if it’s just a meeting between friends, she might laugh at me.”

 

“Girls don’t laugh at flowers,” Tara replied. “And if Buffy had wanted a friend to teach her how to cook, she probably would have asked me.”

 

“Oh.” William couldn’t think of an argument to that. “Right.”

 

Tara sighed and seemed to take pity on him. “Bring flowers. Buffy will appreciate them, and I’m sure it’ll get things off on the right foot.”

 

“Good,” William said. “I should go now if I’m going to pick those up.”

 

“Have fun,” Tara called after him.

 

William was quite sure that he was too nervous to have fun. How was he supposed to teach Buffy how to cook? While he could manage the basics, he wasn’t nearly as proficient in the kitchen as Tara was. The best he could hope for was to teach her a few simple recipes and pray that neither one of them set the kitchen on fire.

 

When it came to choosing a bouquet of flowers at the corner store, however, William was at a loss. The language of flowers had been too deeply ingrained for him to simply ignore the symbolism, even though he knew that Buffy probably didn’t have the first idea what he might be saying.

 

Light red carnations would probably have been most appropriate, but William remembered that carnations were sometimes regarded as cheap these days. His eyes were drawn to the daisies, although neither he nor Buffy could be considered pure or innocent in any way.

 

On the other hand, they were pretty, and seemed a friendly sort of flower, which roses were certainly not. Roses said something he wasn’t ready to say, and he thought that even Buffy would be able to read the message inherent in the blooms.

 

Daisies it would have to be, then, and William would simply hope that they might signify the return to innocence for which both of them might be grateful.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy checked herself over in the mirror once more when she heard the doorbell ring. In jeans and a pink shirt, she looked nice, without looking like she’d spend hours over her appearance—which she hadn’t. Buffy hadn’t wanted to give William the wrong message, so she’d had to be careful about what she wore.

 

That was really all it was.

 

She thought that she might like him; dinner the other night had been fun, and it had been clear that Dawn adored him. That was a huge plus in his favor, since Buffy was well aware that a relationship would run a lot smoother if her boyfriend at least got along with Dawn.

 

Not that she was thinking about William as her boyfriend yet. It was too soon, considering that it wasn’t all that long ago that he’d hated her, though he seemed to have softened to her considerably in the recent weeks.

 

Buffy thought that the turning point probably had been when she’d stayed overnight with him to make sure he was okay. There had been something in his eyes that morning that hadn’t been there before, and ever since then William hadn’t been trying to avoid her, as far as she could tell.

 

Although she hated to even think about it, Buffy had to wonder if it didn’t have something to do with the fact that she had actually been nice to him. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been nice to Spike.

 

And, if the wish had removed the love that Spike felt for her, it was no wonder that all William felt was disdain, given the way Buffy had treated his vampire self.

 

Losing Spike had made her realize just how much she’d come to depend on him, however. Buffy had told herself that she would be fine without him, but that had only been true only as long as he was a short walk away. Once Spike had been gone—forever gone—it had been a different story altogether.

 

Buffy skipped down the steps and opened the front door, her eyes going wide when she saw the bouquet of daisies in William’s hand. “Oh.”

 

“I hope that it’s alright that I brought flowers,” he said, looking a little nervous. “I wasn’t sure, and I—”

 

“No!” Buffy said, ushering him inside. “They’re great.” She smiled as she took the bouquet he held out. “They’re perfect. It’s been a long time since anyone has brought me flowers.”

 

He frowned, following her into the kitchen. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

 

“Well, Angelus sent me roses for Valentine’s Day, but I don’t count those.” Buffy found a vase and set about putting them in water, unable to prevent the happy little grin from forming.

 

“And Riley?” William asked.

 

“Not a hearts and flowers kind of guy,” Buffy explained. “I think maybe once, for Valentine’s Day, but he was better at picnics.”

 

“It seems to me that a lady deserves flowers,” William said. “When I—”

 

She glanced up at him curiously, sensing his discomfort. “When you what?”

 

“When I was human the first time, there was a whole language that was spoken through flowers,” William finally said.

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “And what do daisies say?”

 

“They’re used to symbolize innocence and purity,” he admitted. “I just thought that you might like them.”

 

“They’re pretty,” Buffy acknowledged. “So what would you say if you could?”

 

William hesitated. “I’m not sure.” When she stayed silent, hoping that he would continue, he finally said, “I would have brought you light red carnations to express my admiration.”

 

“So, you admire me, huh?” Buffy asked playfully.

 

“Of course.”

 

Buffy wondered if she dared bring up his previous coolness. “Because you didn’t seem so admiring right after you made that wish.”

 

William stared at the countertop as though it held the response to her observation. “I remembered the way you’d treated m—Spike.”

 

“Yeah, about that…” Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize.”

 

“I think I do,” Buffy insisted. “I apologized before, but not really. I was using you—Spike, and it wasn’t fair, because I knew how you—he felt.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “This is a little confusing.”

 

A smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

 

“Anyway, I’m sorry about that.”

 

William gave her a long look. “Then you’re admitting that Spike loved you?”

 

Buffy swallowed, knowing that if she admitted that she’d known Spike’s feelings were real, it would make her behavior that much worse. On the other hand, if she didn’t, Buffy had a feeling that not admitting it would mean the end of whatever friendship they were in the process of building. “Yes, I am.”

 

“I see.” William took a deep breath. “Why don’t we get started with the lesson?” he suggested. “What did you want to make?”

 

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of her confession. “I thought maybe the same thing you made the other night.”

 

He nodded. “Alright, then. I assume that you purchased chicken.”

 

~~~~~

 

William hadn’t laughed this much in so long—he couldn’t remember ever enjoying himself quite this much. Just the expression on Buffy’s face when he’d insisted she handle the raw chicken had made it worth his time.

 

“Okay, this is actually good,” Buffy said as she took a bite. “I think you might be a miracle worker.”

 

“You were the one who did the work,” William reminded her.

 

Buffy shook her head. “You’ve never seen me make dinner before. I burn _water_. The fact that this meal tastes as good as it does has to be due to your presence.”

 

William could feel himself flush with pleased embarrassment. “I didn’t do much.”

 

“You did a lot.” Buffy smiled at him. “This was a lot of fun.”

 

“It was,” he agreed.

 

She gave him a hopeful smile. “Maybe we could do this again?”

 

“You want another cooking lesson?” he asked, a little confused.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, I was thinking more of a date. Although, we could definitely work food into it.”

 

William didn’t know what to say. He wanted to accept, and at the same time, the risk seemed enormous. He’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to get involved with anyone again, and now Buffy seemed to want a relationship with him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I’m being pushy, and I told myself that I wasn’t going to do that. We don’t have to make it a date. It could just be a friends thing. I’m really okay with that.”

 

William shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he admitted. “I don’t see why you’d want a relationship with me.”

 

“Because I like you,” Buffy said. “You’re nice, and good for my sister, and I have fun with you.”

 

He didn’t know quite what to say to that, but William found that he couldn’t argue with her. “When do you want to go?”

 

“What about Sunday afternoon?” Buffy suggested. “I have to work tomorrow.”

 

William nodded. “I do, too. What time should I pick you up?”

 

“Noon?” she suggested. “I can do picnics. We can go to the beach.”

 

William smiled. “Sunday it is.”

 

And suddenly the world looked like a brighter place.


	15. Expect the Unexpected

**“I talk to you as to a friend/I hope that’s what you’ve/come to be/It feels as though we’ve made amends/Like we found a way/eventually/It was you who picked the pieces up/When I was a broken soul/And then glued me back together/Returned to me what others stole/I don’t wanna hurt you/I don’t wanna make you sway/Like I know I’ve done before/I will not do it anymore/I’ve always been a dreamer/I’ve had my head among the clouds/Now that I’m coming down/won’t you be my solid ground?/I look at you and see a friend/I hope that’s what you wanna be/Are we back now where it all began?/Have you finally forgiven me?...” ~The Perishers, “Sway”**

 

Willow sat down across from Tara tentatively; she still hadn’t decided whether or not to take Giles up on his offer, and she didn’t know what Tara’s reaction to her continued reluctance was going to be. She had decided to finish the semester at the very least, and maybe the school year. She was supposed to graduate in May, and taking a semester off hadn’t been in her plans.

 

“I haven’t made a decision yet,” Willow blurted out immediately.

 

Tara audibly sighed. “It has to be your decision, Willow. I’m not going to pressure you.”

 

“I just—I thought that this was what you wanted me to do,” Willow said.

 

Tara shook her head. “I wanted you to think about it, sweetie.”

 

“You said this was the way we could start over,” Willow replied.

 

Tara pursed her lips in that mannerism she had when she was annoyed. “No, I think you wanted to know how I could trust you again, and I suggested that you get some training. I think, if you got some training, you’d understand why I was so upset in the first place.”

 

Willow wanted to say that she understood why Tara had been upset, but she had a feeling that it wasn’t what the other woman wanted to hear. “Where does that leave us now?”

 

“Pretty much where we were before,” Tara admitted. “I appreciate that you’re at least thinking about it, though.”

 

Willow let out a laugh tinged with bitterness. “It was so easy in the beginning. What happened?”

 

“We got older, life got more complicated.” Tara shrugged. “It’s easy in the beginning because we didn’t have as many things to deal with.”

 

“We had plenty to deal with,” Willow objected.

 

Tara shook her head. “But it’s different when you’re together. You see more sides of a person, and you have to figure out if you can live with them the way they are.”

 

“And you decided that you couldn’t live with me.”

 

“No, I decided that I couldn’t live with the way you practiced magic,” Tara corrected her. “There’s a difference.”

 

Willow, at this distance from her own actions, could recognize that. She could honestly say that she looked back on what she had done to Tara and to Dawn with horror, that she was no longer quite so proud of herself for having brought Buffy back to life. It no longer seemed like such a great accomplishment, not after watching Buffy struggle for over a year to get her bearings.

 

Not when she gave serious consideration to what Buffy had been forced to give up.

 

“I know.” It was the only concession Willow was prepared to make at the moment, even if it wasn’t going to move them forward.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara returned to the apartment feeling the weight of Willow’s expectations; she wanted to know when or even if everything was going to be okay, and Tara honestly wasn’t sure. Although, as time went by and Willow didn’t use magic to speed things along, Tara was beginning to believe that things had changed, that Willow wouldn’t use the same tactics again.

 

It was a slower process than what either of them wanted, however.

 

She went to make herself a cup of tea, and was just pouring herself a cup when William walked in, his nose sunburned and his eyes alight. “Did you have a good day?” Tara asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“I did,” he said mildly, as though he wasn’t fighting to keep his grin from bursting out. “How was yours?”

 

“It was good.” Tara shrugged. “I met Willow for a drink.”

 

“And she still hasn’t agreed to go for training?” he asked, sobering.

 

Tara shook her head. “I honestly don’t think she will. Willow’s too convinced that she can figure things out on her own, and that what happened was an aberration, instead of a pattern.”

 

“Perhaps Willow is right,” William ventured. “I doubt that she’d risk losing you again.”

 

Tara shook her head. “It’s not about me right now, William, it’s about everybody else. The entire world, if you like. She doesn’t understand what magic is meant to be used for, and that’s going to end up getting someone hurt. At first, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, and then…”

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

Tara sighed. “When we first started going out and practicing magic together, I was so impressed by Willow and her abilities, I didn’t really stop and question what kind of approach she was using. It wasn’t until Dawn asked us about resurrecting Joyce that I realized that Willow didn’t understand. And it wasn’t until we had our first fight that I figured out she didn’t react well to people disagreeing with her.”

 

William frowned. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Tara admitted. “I still love her—so much. I’m even beginning to trust her again, but I’m still afraid that the next time something comes up where we don’t agree, or where she doesn’t think that the laws of nature apply to her, she’ll do something that I can’t live with.”

 

“Tara, you will never know whether or not Willow is able to control herself the next time a situation comes up like the one you describe.” William took her hand in both of his in a comforting gesture. “Even those we know best have the capacity to surprise us, for good or ill. There are times when one must simply make the leap.”

 

Tara raised an eyebrow. “This from the guy who said he was never going to fall in love again?”

 

“I said no such thing,” William protested. At her look, he glanced away sheepishly. “Fine, I may have said something to that effect, but I did not mean it. Besides, things have changed.”  


“What changed?” Tara asked.

 

“Buffy admitted that I—that Spike had feelings for her,” William replied. “Also, we—we had a very enjoyable time together today, that’s all.”

 

Tara smiled. “So you’re in love with her again?”

 

“No, of course not,” William responded impatiently. “It’s much too soon for that. We are friends, however, and I think we could be more in time.”

 

“You haven’t given up on love after all, huh?” Tara observed.

 

William shook his head. “It makes one feel so hollow inside, you know, to believe that one could never love again. Life seems senseless in a way. I can’t live like that.”

 

“I know.” Tara had watched William try to tamp down on that passion—the _joie de vivre_ that had so characterized Spike—and it had been slowly killing him. This mood suited him much better, sunburned nose and all.

 

With any luck, this was only the first step in helping William to finally find his true place.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn flopped down on Buffy’s bed right next to her, without waiting for an invitation. “How was it? And I want details.”

 

Buffy glanced up from her magazine. “About what?”

 

“You know about what!” Dawn said, pointing an accusing finger. “Come on, Buffy! You were with William for hours!”

 

Buffy shrugged. “We had a nice time. End of story.”

 

Dawn sat back, appearing perplexed. “If that was your reaction, I really hope you let him down easy,” she finally said. “Because if he gets attached to you, and you act like that—”

 

“I’m kidding!” Buffy exclaimed, knowing that there was every chance that Dawn could take news of her reaction back to William, which didn’t suit her plans at all.

 

Particularly since she was only acting like it wasn’t a big deal to get a rise out of her sister.

 

Dawn glared at her. “Come on, Buffy. William’s my friend, and you’re my sister, and I want to know how your date went. Start from the beginning.”

 

“Well, I got up this morning and had juice—”

 

“Buffy!”

 

Buffy decided that she’d teased Dawn enough. “William picked me up, and I took a picnic basket—because I’m good at picnics—and then we went to the beach.”

 

“So far, so good,” Dawn said, bouncing a little bit on the bed. “Then?”

 

“We ate lunch, and we talked,” Buffy replied.

 

“About what?”

 

“Everything.” Buffy got a dreamy smile on her face. “About my job, and his job, and books he’d read, and movies I’ve seen. Just everything.”

 

Dawn frowned suspiciously. “You have that tone of voice.”

 

“What tone of voice?”

 

“That tone of voice you have when you’re getting all googly eyed over somebody.” Dawn gave her sister a serious look. “Please tell me you _really_ like him, because if you don’t, it’s not worth building him up just to knock him down again.”

 

That comment stung, but Buffy knew that she couldn’t fault Dawn for doubting her motives, especially after what she had told her regarding Spike. Dawn knew that Spike had been in love with her—and Buffy could admit that the vampire really had loved her now—and using someone who had feelings for her had been wrong.

 

It didn’t reflect the kind of person that Buffy had believed herself to be—or maybe it had at the time. In truth, Buffy had hated herself and the world, and Spike had been the only one she could hurt without repercussion.

 

She had forgotten that there were always consequences to every action.

 

“I’m not in love with William,” Buffy admitted, “but I could be. He’s—he’s really something, you know?”

 

Dawn frowned. “Because he’s like Spike?”

 

“Yes,” Buffy said slowly. “In a way, but also because he’s not like Spike. With Spike, it was harder, you know? Because of what he was, and what I am, and the fact that he could be a complete ass sometimes. William is easier to like in a lot of ways.”

 

Dawn gave her a sympathetic look. “But you liked the challenge with Spike.”

 

“I might have if my head hadn’t been so screwed up,” Buffy said. Dawn was quiet, and Buffy could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. “Go ahead and say it.”

 

“Do you still miss being in heaven?”

 

“Not as much.” Buffy shook her head. “I don’t think it’ll ever be something that I don’t miss.”

 

“But you don’t want to die?”

 

“No,” Buffy replied. She didn’t say that she looked forward to death now, knowing what awaited her. If heaven still awaited her.

 

~~~~~

 

William picked up the phone on the second ring. “Hello?”

 

“William? It’s Buffy.”

 

“Hello.” He found himself smiling for no reason except the sound of her voice. “How are you?”

 

“I’m good,” Buffy replied. “How’s the sunburn?”

 

He laughed self-consciously. “Much better, thank you.”

 

There was an awkward pause, and then Buffy said, “I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight. Dawn and I were going to watch TV and eat take-out.”

 

William hesitated. “I don’t know. Tara…”

 

“You can invite Tara, too,” Buffy said quickly. “It’s more a group thing than a date, but I’ve got a back porch if you want to get away from everybody. I think Willow might end up being there, but she couldn’t give me a definite answer.”

 

“I have to work until six, but I can come over afterwards,” William replied. “I need to leave for work now, but I’ll leave a note for Tara.”

 

“Okay,” Buffy said. “I’ll see you after you get off work, then.”

 

William smiled. “Yes. It—it will be good to see you again.”

 

“Same here.” Buffy’s tone was fond, and William said goodbye with a smile on his face.

 

He drove to the bookstore with a smile on his face, humming a tune from his childhood under his breath. It was hard to believe that Buffy was actually pursuing a relationship with him, but that’s what it looked like.

 

She liked him; he was sure of it.

 

William unlocked the shop and began straightening things up. He wasn’t expecting Daniel to come in, since the older man had decided to take a week off to visit his son, who lived in a nearby town. Daniel had talked about taking his grandsons fishing every day.

 

Just the week before, Daniel had said, “It’s been the perfect weather for fishing, William. We’ll close the shop up for the day, and I’ll take you fishing. You’ll love it.”

 

William thought that he might; it was a nice idea, anyway.

 

He’d just finished sorting the previous day’s trade-in paperbacks into piles when a middle-aged man entered the store. “Can I help you?” William asked.

 

The other man frowned. “William, right?”

 

William nodded cautiously. “I’m afraid you have the advantage.”

 

“I’m Aaron,” he said. “Daniel’s son.”

 

“Of course,” William said, his smile faltering. “Daniel has mentioned you. Is—is everything alright?”

 

Aaron shook his head, clearing his throat. “No. No, not really. I—Dad passed away a couple of days ago. He just didn’t wake up, and we’ve been making preparations…” He trailed off.

 

“Oh,” William said weakly. “I’m—I’m very sorry for your loss.”

 

Aaron nodded. “We—my brother and I—were talking today, and we both remembered that Dad had hired someone to take of the store, and we thought someone had probably better let you know.” He hesitated. “I’m really sorry, but we don’t know what we’re going to do with the store, and we’re closing it for the time being.”

 

It took a moment for Aaron’s meaning to sink in. “Oh, of course. I understand.” William reached for his keys. “You’ll want—”

 

“If it’s not too much trouble.” Aaron met his eyes for a moment, and then he looked away again. “I know this is probably a shock, but we just don’t—”

 

“No,” William said quickly. “No, of course you want to be sure that everything is secured.” He handed his key to Aaron. “I am truly sorry for your loss. Your father—was very kind to me.”

 

Aaron nodded shortly. “Yeah, he was a good guy.”

 

William wanted to ask when the funeral would take place, but he didn’t dare when the other man seemed so hesitant to even speak to him. He wondered if it was because Aaron had essentially fired him, although the circumstances were beyond his control. It made sense for the family to close up the shop, particularly when they didn’t know whether or not they would keep the business.

 

He left without saying more, bypassing his car in favor of his own two feet. William felt the need to walk, to clear his head. Although he didn’t need the money, strictly speaking, he was back to having nothing to do with his time.

 

Perhaps this meant that it was time to make real plans for his future, to decide what he wanted to do from here.

 

William sat down on a park bench, not really seeing or hearing the small children playing under the gaze of their watchful mothers; he was too caught up, thinking about Daniel.

 

Burying his face in his hands, William let the tears come, hoping that no one around would see him and know that he was crying.

 

This was what being human meant, and there was a part of him that hated it.

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, Buffy,” Xander said. “I thought I’d drop by tonight.”

 

Buffy couldn’t begrudge Xander’s presence. She knew that he didn’t have a lot to do with his evenings, other than drink. He appeared to be sober now, though. “Come in. Just so you know, William is supposed to come by in a while, and I think Tara might come over, too.”

 

Xander shrugged. “That’s fine, unless you don’t want me here.”

 

Buffy gave him a curious stare. “I thought that you didn’t like William.”

 

Xander sighed. “Yeah. I apologized.”

 

“Okay.” Buffy knew that she sounded a little disbelieving.

 

“What I said wasn’t very nice, and I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on William,” Xander said. “And, while I’m on the subject of apologies, I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?” Buffy asked.

 

“For not really understanding why you were depressed.” Xander shuffled his feet. “I didn’t get it, but I get how you probably felt now, and I wanted to say that I admire you for not giving up.”

 

Buffy blinked. “That’s about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Xander.”

 

He gave her a patented lop-sided grin. “So, are we good?”

 

Buffy gave him a hug. “We’re good. Come on in. We haven’t ordered food yet, since William should be here soon.”

 

They chatted idly about their jobs and Buffy’s classes. When the doorbell rang, Buffy went to answer it, expecting to see William and a little surprised when she saw Tara. “Hey.”

 

“Hey, Buffy,” Tara said. “Did William beat me here?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Actually, he didn’t. I was expecting you to be him.”

 

Tara gave her a sly smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”  


Buffy laughed. “Are we that obvious?”

 

“Only to people who know you well,” Tara said. “William was on cloud nine Sunday night after he got back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy.”

 

Buffy could feel herself flushing. “That’s nice,” she said, knowing that it was a lame response, but unable to think of anything else to say.

 

They sat around and chatted for another hour before hunger got the best of them. “I’m sure William will be here soon,” Tara said. “He said he was going to meet me here.”

 

Buffy nodded uncertainly. “Sure.”

 

When another hour had passed, and still no sign of William, Buffy watched as Tara called their apartment and left a message on the answering machine. “Hey, William. It’s Tara. I’m at Buffy’s house, and we’re all kind of wondering where you are. Call when you get this, okay?”

 

“I’ll call the store, too,” Buffy said. “Maybe he got stuck or something.”

 

There was no answer at the bookstore, and it was Xander who suggested, “Maybe we should look for him.”

 

Dawn shook her head. “Where are we going to look? The only places William ever goes are here and his apartment and work.”

 

“I can do a locator spell,” Tara said. “I’ll have to go back to my apartment for the supplies, though.”

 

“I’ll call the Magic Box,” Buffy said. “If Anya’s there, maybe she’ll bring what we need. She likes William, so she might help us out.”

 

“We’ll still need something of his,” Tara said.

 

Dawn stood. “I have a book that he lent me. I’ll get it.”

 

A few minutes later, Anya teleported into the middle of the living room with a plastic sack emblazoned with “The Magic Box.” She handed it to Tara. “Here you go. There’s no charge on it, since I owe Spike.”

 

“It’s William now,” Dawn said.

 

Anya shrugged. “Same difference.”

 

Tara set the bag down on the coffee table and began pulling everything out just as Willow walked through the front door. “Hey, guys,” she said as she entered the living room. “What’s going on?”

 

“William never arrived,” Dawn explained.

 

“He’s not at your place?” Willow asked, looking at Tara.

 

Tara shook her head, not looking up, her lips tight with worry. “He didn’t answer the phone.”

 

Willow came to sit next to Buffy on the couch, watching as Tara carried out her preparations with brisk efficiency. “You’re doing a locator spell?”

 

“We didn’t know of any other place he’d go,” Buffy supplied. “Apparently, William doesn’t get out much.”

 

“In that, he’s not that much different from the rest of us,” Xander joked.

 

Anya raised an eyebrow. “I get out plenty.”

 

Xander sighed. “The rest of us except for Anya,” he corrected.

 

Tara started the spell, and the others quieted. Buffy watched as a small point of light formed above the surface of the map Anya had brought, and then it fizzled. “What happened?” Buffy asked. “What does that mean?”

 

Tara shook her head. “I don’t know. I—it should have worked.”

 

“Why don’t you let me try?” Willow suggested. “Or we could try together.”

 

Buffy watched as Tara met Willow’s eyes, and an unspoken conversation seemed to take place between them. “You try,” Tara finally said. “Maybe it’s just me.”

 

Willow’s spell fizzled the same way, and Buffy was beginning to get really freaked out. “What does that mean, Will?”

 

Willow shook her head. “I don’t know. I think…” She trailed off, and then looked at Tara.

 

Tara was staring at the tabletop, and she wouldn’t look up.

 

Anya was the one to finally speak. “Either he’s not in Sunnydale anymore, or—” She stopped, exercising uncharacteristic tact.

 

“Or what?” Buffy pressed.

 

“Or he’s dead.”


	16. Waiting Game

**“You and me/A little different/Though we tried to stay the same/It never leaves/And when it changes it is still a waiting game/I wait for a lonely breath/I wait to surface from this death/Wait for the light to come/And take away these images I kept/In my head/More than ever/I need to feel you/More than ever/I see the real you/You and me/Our worst disaster would be waking up alone…I wait for a silent tear/I wait for things to disappear/Wait for the ground to stop moving underneath my only fear/If I lose you I don’t know…” ~Yellowcard, “Waiting Game”**

 

William had completely forgotten about the fact that he’d promised to go over to Buffy’s house after he got off of work. Instead, he’d spent most of the day wandering aimlessly, not knowing what he was supposed to do now, how he was supposed to react.

 

He felt numb, and all he really wanted was to be by himself.

 

It was twilight before William remembered that he was supposed to be meeting Buffy shortly, but he was grimy from a day spent outside, and his car was still parked near the bookstore. He decided to get his car, get cleaned up at his apartment. Then if he was running late, he’d call Buffy and let her know that he was on his way.

 

The sun had fully set by the time William reached his vehicle, and he was just unlocking his door when he heard her voice. “What do we have here?”

 

Cursing himself for a fool, William turned to face a brunette. “Can I help you with something?”

 

“You certainly can,” she purred. “You’re very pretty. Almost too pretty to eat.” Her yellow eyes glowed in the dim light of the street lamps, and William swallowed hard.

 

“Well, now that we have that settled,” he said, turning back to his car, hoping that he could get inside before she could stop him. William hadn’t even managed to grasp the door handle when he was yanked backwards, and then she pressed him back against the hood. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned her.

 

She smiled. “Why not?”

 

“Because I’m a close personal friend of the Slayer,” William replied, not really thinking that such a statement was going to do him much good.

 

“Too bad she doesn’t take better care of her friends,” the vampire said, leering at him. “Don’t you want to be pretty forever?”

 

William shook his head. “No. I’ve tried it, and I’d rather not go back, if it’s all the same to you.”

 

She smiled cruelly. “That might matter if you had a choice.”

 

Her teeth in his neck hurt more than he remembered. William didn’t remember Drusilla’s bite hurting this much, but then again, he hadn’t struggled much either. After a few moments, he felt the remembered lassitude spread through his limbs, and he hadn’t the will power left to refuse the bloody wrist she pressed to his open mouth.

 

As the lukewarm liquid trickled down his throat, William’s last thought was of Buffy—and how she was sure to kill him when she discovered what he’d let himself become again.

 

~~~~~

 

“Do you really think he’s dead?” Dawn asked in a low voice.

 

Tara shook her head. “I don’t know, Dawnie.”

 

“But that’s what it could mean?”

 

“It might mean that.” Tara’s admittance sounded as though it had been dragged out of her.

 

Dawn rubbed tired eyes. “Maybe it was just a fluke, though. Right? I mean, it could just be the Hellmouth messing with the spell.”

 

“Anything could happen,” Tara said.

 

Buffy had taken Xander and Willow with her to look for William and had asked Tara to stay with Dawn. Tara suspected that Buffy had simply wanted to give her some time to pull herself together, since she’d been rocked pretty hard. William had become such a vital part of her world in such a short time that the very thought of losing him felt as though someone had ripped her heart out.

 

William was family; Tara needed him.

 

Dawn stood. “You know, if he shows up tonight, Buffy’s going to kick his ass. He probably just lost track of time. He’ll remember that he’s supposed to be here, and he’ll come walking through the door any minute now.”

 

Tara didn’t reply, remembering how the spell had felt. The power had focused—and then dissipated, as though the person was no longer there. If William was simply not in Sunnydale for whatever reason, the power would have felt different, there would have been something there. The point of light might have flown off the map, but it wouldn’t have just disappeared.

 

In her heart, Tara knew what it meant; she just couldn’t say the words out loud.

 

“Where did Anya go?” Tara asked.

 

Dawn shrugged. “She said something about having a job to do. Xander didn’t even say anything. Do you think that means he’s gotten over her?”

 

Glad to have something else to focus on, Tara said, “No, I think it just means that Xander knows he can’t do anything about getting her back.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You should get ready for bed,” Tara said. “You still have school tomorrow.”

 

Dawn made a face. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

 

“Why don’t you try?” Tara suggested. She watched as Dawn headed upstairs and laid her head on the back of the couch, grateful for the time alone. As long as the younger girl was there, Tara felt as though she had to be strong; now that she was by herself, she could give into her fear.

 

Knowing William as well as she did, Tara knew that something had to have happened to him; nothing but a serious emergency would have prevented him from coming to Buffy’s.

 

Tara closed her eyes and said a brief prayer, hoping that William would be kept safe, against all her expectations.

 

~~~~~

 

“Store closed until further notice due to a death in the family,” Xander read. “Okay, this isn’t good.”

 

“His car is still here,” Buffy said, not replying directly to her friend’s observation. She bent down. “So are his keys.”

 

Willow was busy looking around the car for any signs of a struggle. “I’m not seeing anything, Buffy.”

 

“Was Anya right?” Buffy asked. “Do you think he’s—” She swallowed hard. “—dead?”

 

Willow hesitated. “I don’t know, Buffy. He could be fine.”

 

“But that’s not what the spell indicates,” Buffy pressed.

 

Willow sighed. “No, but it’s hard to say. You have to keep hoping for the best.”

 

“Because that’s so helpful,” Buffy muttered, although her anger was directed at the circumstances and not at Willow.

 

Xander put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll keep looking, Buf. He could still turn up tonight.”

 

Buffy tried to put a brave face on, but she couldn’t help but think that she’d already lost William, just when they were getting started.

 

~~~~~

 

“They still haven’t located William?” Giles asked as Anya took a break from her story to take a sip of wine.

 

She shook her head. “No, not when I saw Tara earlier today. He hasn’t come home yet either, which doesn’t bode well.”

 

Giles was silent, the myriad of possibilities going through his head, none of them pleasant. Unfortunately, on the Hellmouth, the chances that William had simply decided to take a road trip were slim to none, particularly when the man was as conscientious as this one apparently was. “I hope they locate him.”

 

“Me, too.” Anya sighed. “I still owe him, but this isn’t something that’s within my powers to fix or change.”

 

“What exactly are your powers these days?” Giles inquired.

 

Anya gave him a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

 

“I know you were planning on talking to D’Hoffryn about cutting back, or taking on different clients,” Giles said. Anya’s answer wasn’t going to change anything, but he wanted to know to satisfy his own curiosity.

 

“I’m finding ways to help scorned women get even financially,” Anya replied. “I talked to D’Hoffryn, and he agreed that it was often more satisfying for the women, and it certainly does them more good in the long run than having their exes get boils and sores.” She paused. “Although, cursing a man with the inability to ever find a good woman seems to be an attractive alternative. It seems that there’s a perception that men need women much more than women need men.”

 

Giles wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, and so he chose to change the subject. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

 

Anya nodded. “Sometimes I miss being human,” she confessed. “But not all of the time.”

 

“Given a choice, would you go back?” Giles asked.

 

Anya gave his question serious thought; he could tell by the crease that appeared right between her eyebrows. “No, I really don’t think so. I like who I am right now.” She paused, then added, “I know who I am now.”

 

Giles thought that he might understand. He reached for the bottle of wine. “Can I refill your glass?”

 

“You can,” Anya said, pushing it closer to him. “Thank you for cooking dinner tonight, Rupert. I didn’t want to go out.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” Giles responded.

 

Anya gave him an intense stare. “I hope that you had more in mind than just cooking tonight.”

 

Giles just smiled; he most certainly did.

 

~~~~~

 

When he began to come around, he immediately knew where he was; a person didn’t forget how six feet of dirt on top of them felt. Drusilla had been a purist, and had therefore buried him in a wooden coffin she’d convinced Angelus to steal for her—mostly by wailing until he’d given in, helpless to do anything else.

 

This particular vampire was apparently also a purist, although she hadn’t bothered with the box, and he therefore got a mouthful of dirt when he opened his mouth for an unneeded breath. He began to dig, going _up_ , knowing with the uncanny instinct of every young vampire which way was up.

 

He was not a _young_ vampire, however.

 

Breaching the surface, he saw her again, recognizing the vampire who had turned him immediately. “There’s my boy,” she purred. “It’s about time you woke up.”

 

He didn’t reply; she had killed him, and she obviously expected him to be grateful for it. Not that he didn’t relish the strength that was singing through his body, the amazing high that came from being immortal and damn near invulnerable—at least to the things that so often killed humans. No, he could appreciate that much of his newfound existence while still knowing exactly what it was he’d lost.

 

“I just had to keep you around,” she continued, and he recognized the type; she would talk just to hear the sound of her own voice. “The last one got a little old.”

 

He didn’t hesitate when he saw where she was standing—right in front of a tree with a broken branch, just the perfect height for his purposes, if he gave her a little lift.

 

“I’m no one’s toy,” he gritted out, then slammed her back against the trunk. She was dust before he realized that he hadn’t even known her name.

 

He gave some consideration to going to Tara; she would probably be least likely to stake first and ask questions later. He wanted to go _home_ with a longing that surprised him, but his need for blood trumped it.

 

He needed to feed.

 

Turning his head, he could hear people not too far off. If he hurried, he could still catch them. There were always stragglers to any group; picking one of them off wouldn’t be too hard. The chip was almost certainly gone, and he was free to do as he wished.

 

Free to smash and bash and bathe in blood, if that’s what he wanted.

 

 _If_ that was what he wanted.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy pulled off her apron with a sigh of relief. Her shift was finally over; she had thought that it would never end. “Have a good night, Buffy,” Jordan, the shift manager, called out as she left.

 

She summoned up a smile and a wave for him, even though she didn’t feel much like smiling.

 

It had been four days since William had disappeared; no one had much hope of finding him at this point—or at least not finding him alive or in one piece. They had checked the hospital and the morgue, but no one had found an unidentified body that matched his description. Tara had filed a missing persons report, but Buffy didn’t have a lot of faith in the Sunnydale Police Department.

 

Hopeless, that’s what it felt like.

 

It was such a change from how she’d felt only a few days before—finally feeling as though her life was back on track with a new relationship on the horizon. Buffy’s life was still on track, but grief marred her daily routine now.

 

Tara was trying to keep up a brave front, but Buffy wasn’t fooled. She and Willow were both trying to make sure that they invited her over as often as possible, knowing that the empty apartment could only make her feel worse.

 

And Dawn—Dawn was devastated. Buffy hadn’t even argued when Eric came over two nights ago and went and sat with her in Dawn’s bedroom. She’d made certain that the door was left open a crack, but her sister was taking his disappearance hard, and Buffy couldn’t blame her.

 

After all, William was just the most recent casualty in a long string of those who had left her sister.

 

“Dawn?” Buffy called as she entered the house.

 

“She went out with Eric,” Willow said from the living room. “I didn’t think you’d mind, and the fact that she even wanted to go out seemed to indicate that she was feeling better.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, that’s good. Where were they going?”

 

“To a movie,” Willow said. “Eric told me that he thought it might help her escape for a while.”

 

Buffy smiled. “He’s a really nice kid.”

 

Willow nodded. “I’m impressed. Dawnie managed to attract a good one.”

 

Buffy plopped down on the couch, leaning her head back against the cushions, wishing that she didn’t have to patrol, even though she didn’t have a choice, particularly when she wanted to keep an eye out for William. The fact that no one had found his body could mean only one of two things, and Buffy wanted to be the first to know if she was going to have to stake him.

 

If he showed up on Tara’s doorstep, Buffy was pretty sure that the other woman would invite him in. Of course, if he was still Spike, that might be okay, but who knew what happened when a man who had once been a vampire was turned again?

 

“Can I ask you a question, Buffy?”

 

She looked up, meeting Willow’s eyes. “Sure. What’s up?”

 

“Do you think I should take Giles’ offer?”

 

Buffy frowned. “You mean to get training in England?” When Willow nodded, she shook her head. “I don’t know, Will. I think it has to be your call.”

 

“But if you were me, what would you do?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy had no idea how to answer that question. “I really don’t know. What do you want to do?”

 

“I want Tara back,” Willow said. “It’s just that Tara thinks I should do this, and Xander thought that it was a good idea, too. If everybody else thinks that I need to do this, then maybe I do.”

 

Buffy hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She could remember all of the times that Willow had screwed up a spell, how many times she’d tried to fix things with magic. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” she hedged, not wanting to upset her friend.

 

Willow’s eyes were grave. “I want you to be honest with me.”

 

“Then, yes, I think you should do it.” Buffy tried to keep her tone as even as possible as she said, “You shouldn’t have brought me back, Willow. I’m okay now, but you shouldn’t have done it. I think that this has to be about more than just getting Tara back; it has to be about learning to use magic responsibly.”

 

“I know.” Her voice was small, and Buffy could see for the first time that Willow _did_ know. She understood what she’d done and how much it had hurt Buffy. “I’m going to call Giles tomorrow and talk to him. I’ll probably wait until after I graduate in May. Then I can take the summer, and longer if I need to.” Willow was quiet for a long moment. “I think Tara might need the space, too.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Maybe it’ll help.”

 

“Or maybe she’ll figure out that I’m not the one she wants.”

 

“I have a hard time believing that, Will,” Buffy replied. “Tara’s trying too hard to make this work for that.”

 

Willow nodded. “What are you going to do, Buffy?”

 

“About what?”

 

“About William.” Willow gave her a knowing look. “If he turns up again.”

 

Buffy just shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess it’ll just depend.”

 

“On what?”

 

“On if he’s Spike again, or if he’s someone else.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara closed the blinds of the apartment slowly, hating the silence that followed her. Even trying to fill it up with music or the television didn’t help; it just sounded like the lie that it was.

 

William was gone, and nothing was going to fill up that hole.

 

She sat down on the couch, ignoring the phone as it rang, not even going to pick it up when she heard Willow’s voice. “Hey, sweetie. I just wanted to be sure that you were okay. I—I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you that I’ve decided to take Giles up on his offer. I’ll probably go after graduation. I just wanted you to know that. Call us if you need anything at all.”

 

Tara sighed. Everyone had been so nice the last few days; she really felt as though they were trying to be there for her, and it was a little like having her family back. Too bad all she wanted was William.

 

She sat up slowly. William—or Spike.

 

Every single one of the Scoobies, including Buffy, was thinking the same thing. They all knew that the lack of a body, and the fact that William hadn’t shown up, indicated that he’d either been turned or eaten whole. Or possibly that his body had simply not been found. None of the possibilities were good, and Tara had thought of them all over the past few sleepless nights.

 

The possibility that worried everyone the most was that William had been turned, since no one wanted to have to stake him, but Tara wasn’t so sure that would be necessary. If what William had said right after he’d become human again was true, and some part of the man he had been stayed behind, then it was entirely possible that William as a vampire would be very much like Spike had been.

 

In fact, since he would have not only William’s memories, but Spike’s as well, he might _be_ Spike.

 

And Spike had been Tara’s friend long before she’d known William.

 

Tara went into William’s room and turned on the light, looking past the neatly made bed to the closet beyond. She rifled through his clothing, from the jeans and khakis he’d most recently worn, to the black jeans and faded black t-shirts that hung in the back and hadn’t been touched in months.

 

Finally, behind them, was the coat. Other than when he’d first shown up on her doorstep, William had never worn Spike’s leather duster, and therefore using it for a locator spell would help her find Spike—if he existed.

 

The spell was fresh in her mind, and Tara had all the necessary ingredients. She’d thought about doing it since the first night William had disappeared, but she hadn’t the guts. If Buffy found out, if any of the others found out, they would want to stake him.

 

And Tara wasn’t certain that she could bear the truth either.

 

This time, when she spoke the final words of the spell, the point of light didn’t dissipate. Instead, it shot towards one location on the map of Sunnydale, and Tara could see that Spike was apparently haunting his old cemetery.

 

She spoke the words to end the spell and gathered his duster into her lap, wondering what she was going to do with that information. Tara wondered why Spike hadn’t come to her yet, if he was as disoriented as William had been, or if there was some other reason that he’d stayed hidden.

 

Or if, perhaps, the demon in residence was a different sort than Spike’s had been, and if he wasn’t now a danger.

 

The only question was what she was going to do about it.


	17. The Essence of a Man

**“Baby, sweet baby, you’re my drug/Come on and let me taste your stuff/Baby, sweet baby, bring me your gift/What surprise you gonna hit me with?/Baby, sweet baby, whisper my name/Shoot your love into my vein/Baby, sweet baby, kiss me hard/Make me wonder who’s in charge/Baby, sweet baby, I wanna feel your breath/Even though you like to flirt with death/Baby, sweet baby, can’t get enough/Please come find me and help me get fucked up/I am waiting here for more/I am waiting by your door/I am waiting on your back steps/I am waiting in my car/I am waiting at this bar/I am waiting for your essence.” ~Lucinda Williams, “Essence”**

 

He stood outside her door nervously, wondering what his reception would be this time; he’d never been this unsure of himself where Tara was concerned before.

 

Knocking before he could change his mind, he waited for her to open the door. This was supposed to be home, but he would need an invitation to enter now. It was hard to know whether she would give him one.

 

The door swung open, and Tara stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Spike.”

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah, reckon so. You gonna ask me in?”

 

She smiled, and relief lit her eyes. “It’s still your apartment, too, so yes. Come in, Spike.” He stepped through the doorway, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “You’re filthy,” she observed.

 

Spike glanced down at his clothing, streaked with dirt. “That’s what happens when you end up wearing the same clothing you were buried in.”

 

“Why don’t you get cleaned up?” Tara suggested. “I’ll make some tea and heat up some blood for you.”

 

Spike swallowed. “You knew?”

 

“When—when William disappeared, we did a locator spell on him,” she explained. “We couldn’t find him, and when you didn’t show up, I did a locator spell with your coat.”

 

“Oh.” He looked down at the floor. “I haven’t killed anybody, you know.”

 

“I know.” Tara gave him a knowing smile. “You’ve been changing for a long time, Spike.”

 

He nodded. “I’ll just go get cleaned up then.”

 

“Spike?” she called as he headed towards his room to grab clean clothing.

 

He turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

 

“I’m glad you came back.”

 

Spike wasn’t quite sure what he ought to wear. He still had his old clothes in the back of his closet, as though they had been waiting for him to return. At the same time, it was almost as if the Big Bad mask had been torn away with his time as William, and now what was left behind was something in between.

 

In acknowledgment of that fact, he grabbed a pair of faded jeans he’d worn as William and a black t-shirt from the back of his closet.

 

There was something that hurt about not seeing his reflection; he’d grown so used to seeing himself when he looked into a mirror. They’d have to see about finding heavier drapes for the living room, and he’d have to find a shade for his bedroom.

 

If he was staying. If Tara wanted him to stay.

 

Spike came out of the bathroom to find her waiting for him with the promised tea and a mug of blood. “Thanks.”

 

“Why did you stay away for so long?” she asked.

 

He could see the worry etched on her face. “I had to be sure I was safe,” Spike admitted. “I needed to know that I could control the hunger.”

 

Tara nodded. “And can you?”

 

“Yeah.” Spike gave her a look. “I want you to know that I’m not doing this for Buffy. It’s not about her.”

 

She gave him a strange look. “Then what is it about?”

 

“I didn’t want to see the expression on your face when you found out I was hunting again,” Spike explained. “And I didn’t want to lose Dawn.”

 

Something in Tara’s eyes shifted, warmed. “Thank you, Spike. That’s pretty much the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

 

“Did you tell Buffy?” he asked.

 

Tara shook her head. “No. I thought you’d probably want to do that yourself.”

 

“Don’t really know how.” Spike looked off into the distance. “We had the perfect day, you know? It was brilliant, and now…”

 

Now, it was over. He knew that much.

 

“Now, maybe she’ll be able to see the man I’ve always seen,” Tara said, reaching for his hand. Spike let her take it, squeezing gently, careful of his newly returned strength.

 

He was a little surprised to see the tears begin to roll down her cheeks; fat, heavy tears that he could hear splash onto the table. “Hey, now, luv. None of that.”

 

“I was so sure I had lost you.”

 

This hadn’t changed; Spike still knew how to respond to Tara, how to talk to her. He came around the table, brushing her tears away as they fell. “It’s still me.”

 

Tara made no response other than to press her face into his shoulder. Spike felt a warmth, knowing that she was weeping for him, for his loss.

 

Someone loved him enough to cry for him. It was an amazing feeling, and it made him think that he almost might be able to survive Buffy’s inevitable rejection.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles read the same paragraph for the third time, wondering if the author could possibly know what he was talking about. It didn’t seem possible, and at the same time explained everything.

 

It also meant that he needed to call Buffy.

 

The last time he’d talked to Anya, she gave him the impression that everyone suspected that William had been turned; according to this text, that might not matter. The author postulated that the demon needed the personality of the host just like it needed blood, that it was the interaction between the demon and the host that made each vampire who and what it was. That, in fact, the type of demon that inhabited vampires had no true personality of its own. If that were true, then Buffy would be dealing with Spike again.

 

And if what William had said was true, then it was entirely possible that the changes Spike had been going through before he’d made his wish would still be present, and therefore it would be better if Buffy _didn’t_ stake first and ask questions later.

 

Giles picked up the telephone and dialed Buffy’s number, knowing that it was late afternoon in Sunnydale. When he heard her voice, Giles greeted her. “Hello, Buffy. How have you been?”

 

“About as well as you might expect,” she replied. “Still no sign of William.”

 

“How’s Tara doing?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “I’ve talked to her a couple of times, but she doesn’t seem to really want to hang out with anybody right now.”

 

Giles could understand. “I’m sure she just needs time. I actually wanted to talk to you about William.”

 

“What about him?” Buffy asked cautiously.

 

“If—if he does turn up, I think you should be aware that it will probably be Spike that you’re seeing,” Giles warned her.

 

“I know, Giles,” Buffy said, her tone turning sharp. “Everyone else has already given me the speech about staking him if I have to.”

 

“I don’t think you should stake him.”

 

There was a long silence. “What?”

 

“I’ve given a lot of thought to what William told me while I was in Sunnydale,” Giles said. “He indicated that Spike had been changing for quite a while, that his being human did not make much difference.”

 

“That’s true,” Buffy acknowledged. “But if—if something did happen to him, we don’t know that it’s going to be Spike that turns up.”

 

Giles sighed. “I think it might _be_ Spike. Everything I’ve been reading on the subject indicates that the demon and the essence of a person combine; if William and Spike were not that different to begin with, there’s nothing to indicate that the opposite wouldn’t be true.”

 

Buffy was quiet for a long moment. “And what if he’s different, Giles? What do I do then? I told the others that I could stake him, but I don’t know if I can.”

 

Giles didn’t know what to tell her. “When the time comes, I believe that you’ll make the right decision, Buffy. You always have in the past.”

 

“Thanks, Giles.”

 

They exchanged a few more words, then they said their goodbyes. Giles touched the text in front of him, then picked the phone up again.

 

It was time to return to Sunnydale.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow had been trying to talk to Tara for days now, but the other woman had been distracted and largely unavailable. She wanted to tell Tara about making the decision to go to England to study magic.

 

It had been Buffy who had helped her make the decision—Buffy’s eyes when she’d said that her resurrection had hurt her. Willow had looked into the pain she had created, and she caught a glimpse of the person she’d become.

 

Willow could lie to everyone else, and she could lie to herself, but for only so long. The truth—the real truth—behind the decision to bring Buffy back wasn’t the suspicion that she was in some horrible hell dimension. The evidence that Willow had had of that was nearly nonexistent, and deep down, she had known better. The truth was that it had been hard without Buffy there, and her death had seemed horribly unfair, therefore it only seemed right to bring her back.

 

Even though, deep down, Willow had known it was wrong.

 

Looking back, she could see her own actions with a little more objectivity. She hadn’t told Giles or Spike because she’d known that they would stop her. She hadn’t told the others the full details of the spell because Willow had known they wouldn’t go along with it if they knew. Tara, particularly, would not have been a party to the death of an innocent animal.

 

Later, it had been impossible to face the idea that she’d hurt Buffy. Only after Tara left did Willow realize that something had gone horribly wrong.

 

Only after she looked into Buffy’s eyes and faced the pain she’d caused head-on did Willow acknowledge that _she_ was the one who needed help. That how she was doing things wasn’t right, and if she didn’t change, someone would get hurt.

 

Someone would get hurt _worse_.

 

It wasn’t really about the magic, Willow knew. It was about _her_ , and until she fixed what was wrong, she wasn’t safe.

 

Really, all Willow had wanted when she first started down this path, was the opportunity to make a difference, to really help, to _matter_. She had wanted the power and the control

 

Now, she had to learn a different kind of control, because it was clear that the power wasn’t going anywhere.

 

~~~~~

 

He drank his blood quickly, knowing that Buffy would be starting on her patrol any minute now. He’d been following her for four nights now, and so far she hadn’t seen him, although he didn’t think that would last much longer.

 

Sooner or later—and more likely sooner—Buffy would sense his presence, and then he would have no choice but to reveal himself.

 

Spike hadn’t been quite sure what he wanted to do after the heady realization that he could hunt again if he wanted to do so. It would have been easy to go back to hunting; certainly, it was the path of least resistance. There wasn’t much difference between William and Spike, but there had been one major change from vampire to human and back again: it was a lot easier to do the right thing as a human. As a vampire, Spike was fighting every instinct he had.

 

What had stopped him from snatching the first young thing he saw off the street was the thought of Tara’s reaction, the thought of never being able to see Dawn again. Tara’s reaction when he showed up on her doorstep again had made his decision worth it.

 

But he’d also made the choice not to hunt because of the challenge. Spike liked the thought of being the first vampire in history to do the right thing _without_ a soul. Everyone seemed to think that having a soul was the be all and end all. He’d prove them wrong.

 

It had taken him a few days just to be sure he had the bloodlust under control; there had been no way he was going to risk Tara’s life just because he was hungry.

 

Spike’s first stop had been the hospital, knowing that he would need human blood at first if he had a chance at controlling the bloodlust. He’d stolen as many bags as he could, and then he’d found himself a place to hunker down. For three days, Spike had done nothing but drink his blood and plan his next step. The last day, he’d eaten as much as he could before going to see Tara again, not wanting to risk his control—even though he thought it was pretty good.

 

He’d known that going to Tara would be easier than facing Buffy again; Spike still hadn’t worked up the courage for that.

 

There was every possibility that Buffy would stake him as soon as she realized that he was a vampire again, no matter what she’d said about believing that Spike had loved her. After all, Buffy had never given him reason to believe that she’d had much more than mildly affectionate feelings for him, and she’d sent Angel to hell in order to save the world. If she believed him to be a threat, she wouldn’t even hesitate to dust him.

 

So, Spike resorted to stalking her again, needing to be close to her, yet dreading what would happen when they met again. It wasn’t the idea of Buffy staking him that he feared most; Spike had died one too many times to fear the final end, and going at the hands of a Slayer would be fitting.

 

No, it was the idea that Buffy would stake him, and feel nothing as she did so. The idea that she cared for him so little _hurt_ , and Spike didn’t have a lot of hope that her brief exposure to William would have changed anything.

 

Spike was back to where he’d been before he made that bloody wish, with nothing to show for his troubles, although he supposed that he still had his bank account and apartment. Nothing had really changed; nothing would ever change.

 

He had caught a glimpse of the possibility of having a real relationship with Buffy, and now Spike knew that he’d never be able to settle for crumbs again.

 

At the same time, he knew that he’d never have a chance at anything else.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy glanced over her shoulder, feeling as though someone was following her. She’d had the same feeling the last few patrols she’d been on, and it was starting to make her a little nervous. Catching sight of the vampire she’d been waiting for coming out of its grave, Buffy slammed her stake through its heart before it was even fully risen.

 

She didn’t even make a quip; they all seemed to fall flat these days.

 

Buffy put the stake back in her pocket and dusted off her hands. She’d only walked a few more feet when she heard the crack of a branch behind her. “Okay, that’s it,” she said out loud. “I know you’re back there, and I know you’ve been following me.”

 

Silence met her words, and she scowled. “I’m serious. If you don’t come out, and come out _now_ , I’m going to make you very sorry.”

 

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your edge, Slayer.”

 

It was _his_ voice, _his_ walk, even _his_ expression—one eyebrow cocked, a smirk playing on his lips.

 

Oh, God. She had missed it all.

 

The only change was in the faded blue jeans he wore with his black shirt and heavy boots. Spike had even dug up his coat from somewhere, and Buffy wondered briefly where it had been. It was all Spike, however, whatever changes had been wrought in between one existence and the next.

 

Except for his hair; for some reason, he hadn’t bleached it again, and Buffy immediately knew that while she might be looking at Spike, there was a lot of William that remained behind.

 

“You want to tell me where you’ve been?” Buffy demanded, knowing that he would have risen almost a week ago. “We’ve been worried.”

 

It wasn’t exactly what she’d meant to say, but it was worth it to see the shock pass briefly over his face. “You shouldn’t have worried, pet,” Spike finally said, and Buffy could tell from his insolent tone that the mask was once again firmly in place. The difference was that she knew it was a mask. “William’s beyond your concern, and it wouldn’t have made a difference to have this out earlier.”

 

“Have what out?” Buffy asked, beginning to get a little concerned.

 

Spike spread his arms out in open invitation. “Our fight. You knew it was coming. The chip’s gone, the soul’s gone, there’s nothing holding me back now.”

 

Buffy wasn’t buying it; if Spike had been killing people, there would have been bodies, or stories of people disappearing. There had been no word of either, which told Buffy that Spike was full of shit. “So, tell me. How many people have you killed?”

 

Something flickered in his eyes. “What’s it to you?”

 

“Well, I’ve noticed that there haven’t been a lot of mysterious wild animal attacks lately,” Buffy said. “And I’ve only been seeing the usual vampire or two a night, so you’re obviously not on your game. If you were back to your old ways, I’d have known about it by now.”

 

He glared at her. “Well, it’s only a matter of time, right? After all, I’m a thing. There’s nothing good in me, so you might as well save yourself the trouble and get this over with.”

 

Buffy didn’t hesitate. Her fist connected with his jaw and sent him flying backwards. She stood over him, giving him her best glare. “Stop being such a jerk,” she ordered. “You really think I’d stake you just because you pissed me off? How long have you been a pain in my ass? And how long have you remained undusty?”

 

Spike was rubbing his jaw, glowering. “That’s about enough of that,” he growled, pushing himself up from the ground and tackling her.

 

Buffy grappled with him, not bothering to reach for her stake; she was certain that she didn’t need it. Spike was the one who ended up on top, however, pinning her hands above her head. Buffy felt a stab of fear as he eyed her neck. She looked up into his eyes. “Do it,” she challenged him.

 

She wasn’t terribly surprised when he crushed his lips to hers.

 

~~~~~~

 

Dawn knew that something was going on. Tara had been really evasive the last few days, and she was beginning to get worried. Dawn had already lost William; she wasn’t about to lose Tara as well.

 

Eric was at his karate class and Buffy was out on patrol, so Dawn marched herself up to Tara’s apartment building, ringing the buzzer for her apartment. It was dark outside, so there was no way that Tara would be able to turn her away.

 

“It’s Dawn,” she said when Tara finally responded.

 

“I’ll buzz you in.”

 

Dawn heard the lock click and she slipped inside, heading up the stairs to the second floor. She still thought of it as _their_ place—Tara and William’s. Dawn couldn’t think of William as truly gone, not when there was no real evidence of his passing other than his abandoned car and the knowledge that he hadn’t been seen.

 

“You shouldn’t be out after dark, Dawnie,” Tara reproved as soon as she opened the door.

 

Dawn thrust her chin out rebelliously. “I was worried. No one’s talked to you in days.”

 

“I talked to Buffy on the phone yesterday,” Tara reminded her. “And I’m fine.”

 

Dawn had opened her mouth to say something when she realized that William’s bedroom door was open. She could see the window from where she stood, and there was a heavy blanket covering it that hadn’t been there before.

 

“He came back,” she said, turning to look around the rest of the apartment. “He’s here.” Now there were drapes over all of the windows, in addition to the vertical blinds that had come with the apartment. “Where is he?”

 

“As far as I know, Spike’s out following your sister,” Tara admitted after a moment.

 

Dawn frowned. “How long has he been back?”

 

“Just a few days,” Tara said. “He was worried about how Buffy was going to take it.”

 

Dawn knew immediately why Spike hadn’t let her know he was still alive. “I wouldn’t have told her!” she protested. “I can keep a secret.”

 

“Spike didn’t want to put you in that position, Dawnie,” Tara replied. “It wouldn’t be very fair.”

 

Dawn wasn’t convinced. “He told _you_.”

 

“Buffy’s my friend,” Tara said, “but she’s _your_ sister. Besides, this is his home.”

 

Dawn flopped on the couch. “Is he the same?”

 

“Pretty much,” Tara said. “Maybe a little more William than Spike was before, but…” She appeared to struggle for the words. “I don’t know.”

 

“Yeah.” Dawn sighed. “Can I stay until he comes back?”

 

Tara shook her head. “No. I don’t know when he’ll be home, and I’m fairly sure that Buffy doesn’t know that you’re here.”

 

“I could call and leave a message,” Dawn said hopefully.

 

Tara wasn’t going to be budged, however. “I’m going to walk you home, but you can come over after school. If Buffy still doesn’t know about Spike tomorrow, then I’ll tell her myself.”

 

Dawn nodded, happiness beginning to settle in. Spike was back. “So, he’s still going to be living here?”

 

“For the time being,” Tara replied. “We haven’t made any long-term decisions yet, but I don’t have any objections to him staying. It would be nice, especially since it looks like Willow’s not going to be staying here.”

 

Dawn nodded. “Yeah. I guess it would be nice for you to have someone around still, and Spike’s good company.”

 

She didn’t say it out loud, but Dawn thought that Spike might be better company than William was. Spike, after all, let her get away with a lot more.


	18. The End of Fear

**“…I wish/Wishing for you to find your way/And I’ll hold on for all you need/That’s all we need to say/I’ll take my chances while/You take your time with/This game you play/But I can’t control your soul/You need to let me know/You leaving or you gonna stay/You’re the only one I ever believed in/The answer that could never be found/The moment you decided to let love in/Now I’m banging on the door of an angel/The end of fear is where we begin/The moment we decided to let love in…” ~The Goo Goo Dolls, “Let Love In”**

 

Spike expected Buffy to struggle, to throw him off as soon as he released her hands. Instead, she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer. He’d missed this, but he wasn’t about to be used again.

 

William had given him that much, oddly enough. Spike knew that he could survive without Buffy now.

 

Not that he particularly wanted to.

 

Still, Spike pulled back, looking into Buffy’s eyes. “I’m not doing this again,” he warned her.

 

“Not doing what?” she asked, her eyes clouded with lust; it was a familiar sight, and Spike worried what would happen when Buffy finally came to her senses.

 

Maybe she wouldn’t run this time; maybe she’d just stake him and be done with it.

 

“I’m not doing _this_ ,” Spike said seriously. “I’m not letting you use me as some escape.”

 

Buffy glared at him. “Hello? Have you seen my life lately? I don’t need an escape. What I need is a partner.”

 

His eyes widened. “Buffy…”

 

“Are you up for it?” she asked, challenging him.

 

“I’ll show you how ‘up for it’ I am,” he growled, meeting her lips with his own once again.

 

Once again, Spike found himself too caught up in _her_ to really think about where he was, or what was going to happen after they’d shagged each other silly. He really didn’t sodding care. If she needed a partner, that’s what he’d be. It was better than nothing.

 

She was the one who slowed things down, turning her kisses from desperate to slow and sweet. Spike had no problem responding in kind, his hands teasing the skin below the waistband of her jeans.

 

It was everything he’d ever wanted and then some. If Spike had allowed himself to think about that fact for one second, he’d have called a halt to the whole thing, not wanting to allow himself to hope for anything from her.

 

This _was_ Buffy, after all, the queen of denial. No matter how much she thought she wanted him in the moment, when the endorphins wore off, she’d be gone again.

 

That was probably why Spike didn’t allow himself to think about it.

 

They made love right there in the cemetery, and Spike knew that no matter how hard Buffy tried to redefine it later, that’s what it was. It was the coming together of lovers after a long absence, and he never wanted to let her go.

 

Still joined, Spike held her close, waiting for Buffy to pull away. “I missed that,” she murmured into his chest.

 

Spike swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Have you seen Tara yet?”

 

“Went over there a few days ago,” he admitted. “I needed a change of clothes, and…” Spike trailed off, not wanting to confess that he’d been sure of Tara’s welcome, but not hers.

 

Buffy seemed to freeze for a moment, then laughed shortly. “We really screwed this up, didn’t we?”

 

At least she was using “we,” rather than “you,” Spike noted. “Suppose we did. Only question is what we’re going to do about it now.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Spike pulled away, straightening out his clothes and glancing away from her as she did the same, in order to give her some privacy. Buffy had always been very insistent about her privacy. “Yeah, I get that. You’re the Slayer, and I’m a vampire, and never the twain shall meet, and all that.”

 

“You’re such a drama queen,” Buffy said, letting out a frustrated breath. “Could it maybe be that I just don’t know? That it’s not about you being you or me being me, but just—I don’t know!”

 

“Us being us?” Spike asked with a smirk.

 

“Shut up,” Buffy ordered, but there was a smile playing on her lips. “No, I mean that this would be hard even if you were still human.”

 

“But that would make things easier,” Spike filled in.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, because then you wouldn’t be Spike.”

 

Her words floored him; it was rare for him to be at a loss for words, but Spike had no idea what to say to that. From believing that Buffy would stake him on sight, to suddenly hearing that she wanted a partnership, that she might even _like_ him…

 

Well, it was almost too good to be true.

 

“So, what next then?” he finally asked when he could speak.

 

Buffy gave him a half-smile. “I guess I walk you home, and then maybe we pick up where we left off another day.”

 

Spike frowned. “What do you mean? You want to get together to—”

 

“Date,” Buffy said firmly, before he could get the last word out. “We can date. We seemed to be doing pretty good with that before now. You still know how to cook, and I still need lessons.” Her expression was almost shy. “We could even do picnics, just after dark.”

 

He nodded, feeling as though it was all almost too good to be true. “So, you’re not going to miss him?”

 

Buffy seemed to know who he was referring to immediately. “A little,” she said honestly. “But since he’s pretty much you with more manners, I think I’ll be fine.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander wiped the sweat off of his brow and took a long draught of water. It was hot for late fall, even late fall in southern California, and he was feeling the strain of a long day. All he wanted was to go home, shower, and then collapse in front of the television for a while.

 

Willow had called him earlier to say that Spike had finally turned up, and that he wasn’t eating people. Xander wished he could say that he was surprised, but he wasn’t. Not that he was happy with the idea of the vampire hanging around again; he’d actually kind of liked William, and having Spike back wasn’t his idea of a good bargain.

 

There was a part of him that would have liked to insist that Buffy stake the menace, but that part was a much quieter voice these days. Xander had his own troubles to worry about, and, well, he wasn’t quite as certain of his good judgment now as he had been in the past.

 

Xander wouldn’t ever admit that he’d been wrong—or that he was wrong—where Spike was concerned, but he could at least admit that he wasn’t always right about everything.

 

Which seemed to indicate that Spike might prove him wrong yet.

 

“Austin!”

 

He looked up just in time to see a little boy dart past the fence and into the construction site. There wasn’t a lot of heavy equipment running right before the guys knocked off for the day, but it wasn’t safe for a kid, particularly when Austin looked to be having way too much fun to allow his mother to catch him.

 

Xander moved out of instinct, catching the boy around the waist and sweeping him up. The kid let out a surprised yelp, and the woman came running up to him. She was wearing business attire, and she didn’t appear to be that much older than Xander; Austin appeared to be around three or four.

 

“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, holding out her arms. Xander handed her the little boy, who fussed to be let down immediately. “I really don’t know what gets into him. I’ve told him so many times that he can’t just run off like that, but it’s hopeless.” She put her son down, but kept a tight grip on his hand, brushing dark blonde hair out of her face with her free hand.

 

Xander gave her an awkward smile. “I doubt it’s hopeless,” he replied. “You could always get a leash.”

 

For a second, he thought that she might take offense; his sense of humor didn’t appeal to everybody—or even most people. She just smiled at him ruefully, however. “Trust me; I’ve thought about it.” She glanced around the site. “Do you work here?”

 

Xander shrugged. “Yeah, I run a crew.” He waved to some of the guys leaving for the day, hoping that she’d be impressed by his construction-worker persona. “Mostly indoor carpentry.”

 

“That’s really cool,” she said, sounding as though she meant it. “My name is Melanie.”

 

“Xander.” He gave the kid his best smile. “This must be Austin.”

 

When Austin buried his face in Melanie’s legs, she laughed and shrugged. “He’s always a little shy with strangers.”

 

“That’s okay,” Xander said, trying for the funny once again, after his last success. “I usually am too.”

 

Melanie laughed again, her blue eyes warming. “Thanks again.”

 

“No problem.” Xander wished he knew of some way to suspend the moment, to ask for her number.

 

She gave him a flirtatious look. “You know, I work just up the street. Maybe we could meet for lunch sometime?”

 

“Tomorrow?” Xander asked, before he realized how desperate that probably sounded. “I mean, if you’re not busy, and I should probably check to be sure we don’t have a meeting or…” He stopped, knowing that he was only digging a deeper hole.

 

“I’ll bring a couple of sack lunches,” she said, smiling, and obviously not put off by his eager response. “Around noon?”

 

“That’s perfect.” Xander watched her leave, and it wasn’t until he felt Mike slap him on the shoulder before he snapped out of his daze.

 

“Good catch,” Mike complimented him.

 

Xander smiled. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike stumbled to the door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He didn’t even have a chance to register that it was Dawn on the other side when she threw herself at him. “What—”

 

“We thought you were dead!” she exclaimed, pulling back. “Where have you been?”

 

“I’ve been around,” Spike said, knowing that she was aware of where he’d been. Tara had told him about the girl’s visit when he returned to the apartment the previous evening; she’d also warned him that Dawn would be by after school.

 

Dawn gave him a very impressive scowl. “You couldn’t have called to let me know you were still alive?”

 

“I’m not alive,” Spike pointed out ruthlessly. “In fact, I was digging myself out of my grave just a few nights ago.” At the hurt in her eyes, he immediately relented. “I’m sorry, Bit. I didn’t know how your sister would react, and I didn’t want to put you in the middle.”

 

Dawn glanced away, unappeased. “You promised.”

 

Spike frowned. “What?”

 

“You promised that you weren’t going to ditch me for Buffy again,” she said, her lower lip trembling alarmingly. “And then you go and get turned and start stalking her again. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

 

Spike thought about reproving her for her language, but that would be like the pot calling the kettle black. “I just wasn’t sure what your sis was going to do,” he said helplessly. “Nibblet, the chip is out.”

 

Dawn swallowed. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Spike growled. “I knew if I told Tara, she wouldn’t go ballistic on me, and if Buffy found out she knew, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. However, if Buffy found out that you knew before her, things could get real uncomfortable for you. Didn’t want that to happen.”

 

Dawn sat down on the couch, her eyes pleading. “But you guys talked?”

 

“You know we did,” Spike said, plopping down next to her. “Imagine Buffy told you when she got home last night.”

 

“Yeah,” she admitted reluctantly. “But she wouldn’t give me any details.”

 

Spike sighed, thinking that they were back to square one; Buffy was still going to hide their activities from her friends and family. Why had he ever believed any differently? “Yeah, I guess she wouldn’t have.”

 

“Well, she said you guys were still dating, but other than that, nothing,” Dawn clarified. “So, did you fight?”

 

Spike was still stuck on her first statement. “Wait a minute. She told you we were dating?”

 

“Yeah.” Dawn gave him a look that suggested he was being stupid. “I asked her, since she was dating William. I didn’t know if you not being human would change anything, and it didn’t.” Her expression grew a little more uncertain. “It didn’t change anything, did it?”

 

Spike looked at the drapes that now covered the windows; it had changed everything, but he knew what Dawn meant. “Doesn’t change what I promised, or how I feel about you.”

 

“And Buffy?” Dawn pressed.

 

Spike sighed. “Dunno. In some ways, it changes everything—and nothing.”

 

She looked as though she was about to argue with him, to protest that he hadn’t given her any kind of an explanation, and then her expression cleared. “You love her.”

 

“Yeah,” Spike replied. William had already been more than half in love with her when he’d been turned for the second time, and nothing had changed for Spike.

 

The demon was still just a little bit in love with the pain, but the man in Spike loved the side of Buffy he’d gotten a chance to see as William—and her response to him last night had cemented it. Spike was fairly sure he’d be dust before he stopped loving Buffy now.

 

Dawn gave him a sharp look. “This is good, right? I mean, it’s okay—you being a vampire again.”

 

Spike gave her a smile. “Yeah, think it might be.” He looked at the covered windows again; if he still had a chance with Buffy, then the only thing he’d lost was the sunlight, and he’d lived without it for over a century.

 

He could learn to live in the darkness again, as long as he wasn’t alone.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles stepped off the airplane and took a firmer grip on his carry-on.

 

“Hey!”

 

Buffy and Dawn were waiting for him, and Giles was relieved to see that Buffy actually looked happy. In fact, in the last few months, it looked like she’d put on some weight, and her face was free of strain.

 

After their last conversation, that wasn’t quite what he’d been expecting.

 

“How are you?” Giles asked, returning first Buffy’s, then Dawn’s, embrace. Apparently, the younger girl had forgiven him for leaving.

 

“Good,” Buffy said cheerfully. “And, because I know how much you like to hear it, you were right.”

 

Giles smiled, a little bewildered. “I don’t mind hearing that, but what was I right about?”

 

“Spike,” Dawn supplied. “She means you were right about Spike still being Spike.”

 

He raised his eyebrows. “Did he turn up again?”

 

“Two nights ago,” Buffy admitted. “Pretty much the same old Spike.”

 

“He’s not that different from William,” Dawn added, the expression on her face smug. “I told you guys, but you didn’t want to believe me.”

 

Giles sighed. “Yes, Dawn, I do remember you telling us that.” He watched as Buffy elbowed her sister and gave a warning look. “Is the chip still working?”

 

“No,” Buffy said. “But he’s not going to hunt, and I’m not going to stake him.”

 

The way she said it indicated that Buffy was ready to fight him over it, but Giles had no inclination to argue. “I’m glad to hear that you’ve worked things out.”

 

It was worth saying just from the stunned expression on Buffy’s face. Dawn snickered. “I told you that Giles was cool.”

 

Giles was rather warmed. “Thank you, Dawn.” Directing his question to Buffy, he asked, “Have the others given you a hard time?”

 

She made a face. “Actually, no. You were pretty much the only person I didn’t know was on board.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Even Xander?”

 

Buffy sighed. “Apparently, Xander fully expects Spike to revert to his evil ways, but he’s willing to trust that I know what I’m doing. At least in theory. It probably doesn’t hurt that he had a date today.”

 

At Giles’ puzzled look, Dawn explained, “Xander was way too excited about having lunch with Melanie to bug Buffy about Spike. He’s pretty distractible.”

 

“Hmm,” was his noncommittal answer. Giles couldn’t help but agree with Dawn’s assessment, as Xander sometimes had the attention span of a gnat. “Have you seen Anya recently?”

 

Buffy gave him a strange look. “Not in the last couple of days. Why?”

 

Giles shook his head, not wanting to reveal the fact that he’d been seeing her—or that he planned on seeing her while in Sunnydale. “No real reason. I was planning on checking on the shop while I was here.”

 

Dawn didn’t look as though she believed him. “Didn’t you just have dinner with her the other night?”

 

Giles blinked. “What?”

 

“That’s what Anya said,” Dawn explained. “When I was at the Magic Box the other day, she said that you guys had dinner, and she looked _really happy._ ”

 

Dawn said that with great significance, and Buffy didn’t have any trouble picking up on Dawn’s meaning. “Giles,” she began slowly. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

 

Giles sighed. “No, not particularly.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Okay, but you’d better hope that Anya doesn’t say anything to Xander while you’re in town.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara took the drink that Willow held out to her. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

They sat and stared at each other for another few minutes. “So, you’re going to go to England?” Tara asked, deciding that she needed to be the one to start the conversation.

 

“Right after I graduate,” Willow replied. “So, it’s going to be awhile, but I wanted to finish my degree first. This way, my parents will probably agree to pay for some of it.”

 

Tara nodded. “It’s good that you’re going.”

 

“I’m not doing it so we get back together,” Willow blurted out. “If you want to be with me, if this means that you can trust me again, that’s great, but that’s not why I’m doing it.”

 

Tara was cautiously optimistic. If Willow was going to England for the right reasons, it might mean that she finally understood. “Why did you decide to go?” she asked gently.

 

“I was really mad at you,” Willow confessed. “Then I told Xander about it, and he thought it was a good idea, and Buffy did, too. I had to ask myself why they thought I needed extra training, even if I didn’t.”

 

Tara nodded, beginning to understand. Willow had always been very logical; she lived in her head most of the time, which was probably why she’d gotten into so much trouble with the magic. If she _could_ do it, and there was no logical reason why she _shouldn’t_ , Willow was going to go ahead and do it. In Willow’s world, the ends justified the means most of the time, but what she didn’t understand was that the means were just as important.

 

Sometimes, the means were the only things to consider.

 

“I got out of control,” Willow acknowledged. “I wanted to get it back. I wanted to bring Buffy back, and I wanted to keep you, but I didn’t stop to think about what was best.”

 

Tara nodded. “That’s why I left, Willow.”

 

“I know.” Willow took a deep breath. “I want to promise you that I’d never hurt you like that again, but I don’t know if I can right now.”

 

Tara blinked back tears from a bitter kind of joy. _This_ was what she’d needed to hear, and instead of marking a beginning, it seemed to indicate an ending. “I still love you, Willow.”

 

Willow smiled. “I know. I can’t ask you to wait for me, and I know you don’t really trust me anymore, but—”

 

Tara reached out across the table and took Willow’s hand in her own. “But I think I will be able trust you.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how long I’ll be in England.”

 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Tara smiled, feeling real hope for them. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to visit England in the fall.”


	19. A New Start

**“…So come on now,/I can almost see/that place/on a distant shore./And courage is a weapon we must use/to find some life you can’t refuse./We don’t need a lot of money./We’ll be sleeping on the beach,/keeping oceans within reach./(Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free.)/I will stumble there with you/and you’ll be laughing close with me,/trying not to make a scene/etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean/is we’re gonna be alright./Yeah, we’re gonna be alright./You can close your eyes tonight,/’cause we’re gonna be alright./All that I can see is your eyes./Close your eyes.” ~Over the Rhine, “Etcetera, Whatever”**

 

Spike arrived on schedule but hesitated to use the front door. Dawn had told him that Giles was coming back to town, therefore he’d planned on avoiding the Summers’ residence, but Buffy had called earlier to invite him to go out on patrol.

 

That had been a little weird. Spike wasn’t used to Buffy calling him to issue an invitation to do anything.

 

There was a part of him that wanted to say, “Sod it,” and belligerently face whatever the Watcher wanted to throw at him. There was another part of him that wanted to avoid the man, because he had no desire to make things any harder on Buffy.

 

Angry with himself for being such a wanker, Spike marched up to the front door and knocked loudly. Squaring his shoulders, he waited for the fireworks to begin. What he got instead was Buffy. “Hi!” she said cheerfully. “Come on in.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow and entered. “Where’s your Watcher?”

 

“Having dinner with Anya,” Buffy replied. “He says it’s shoptalk, but I’m choosing not to think about it too much.”

 

He smirked. It looked like he might get off easy after all; if Rupert was dating a vengeance demon, he couldn’t argue too much about Buffy seeing a vampire. At least in theory.

 

“Stop it,” Buffy scolded him.

 

Spike affected a hurt look. “Stop what?”

 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking. It’s not happening.”

 

Spike smirked. “I was just thinking that he couldn’t give you too hard a time for patrolling with me then.”

 

“Is that what we’re going to call it?” Buffy asked, grabbing her jacket.

 

Spike shrugged. “We can call it whatever you want. Where’s Dawn?”

 

“Out with Eric,” Buffy replied. “Her curfew is midnight tonight, so I need to be back by then.”

 

Spike didn’t have a problem with that. While he might have liked to stay out all night as they’d done in the past, this was worlds better than what she’d given him before. This was—

 

Well, it was like they were really dating.

 

“Yeah, alright,” Spike replied. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

 

“Thanks.” Buffy graced him with another smile as she locked up behind her. “I promised Dawn I wouldn’t disappear again.”

 

Spike lit a cigarette with a practiced gesture and a sigh of relief. He’d missed smoking, and Tara wouldn’t let him do it in the apartment. “She wrangled the same promise out of me.”

 

Buffy looked up at the sky. “I really let her down last year, you know? I mean, it was hard to come back and all of that. Nothing felt like it mattered, but I wish I hadn’t let Dawn down so badly.”  


“You live and learn,” Spike replied. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, luv. It’s not like you’ve ever raised a teen before.”

 

Buffy glanced over at him. “You can say that after the way I treated you?”

 

Spike was still a little surprised at her attitude; maybe she’d been different with William, but he’d been human then. “You keep saying that.”

 

“Saying what?”

 

“Acting like how you treated me before was wrong,” Spike said. “Like you feel bad about it.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “You don’t remember what you said to me?” When Spike looked confused, she amended, “What William said to me.”

 

“Sure, but—”

 

“William said that I treated you like you were stupid, unless I wanted to believe otherwise.” Buffy made a face. “He was angry at me.”

 

“I was pretty brassed off on several occasions,” Spike said. “I didn’t see you taking that into consideration.”

 

“That’s because I wasn’t thinking of you as having actual feelings,” Buffy admitted candidly. “I used you, Spike. I told you that when I broke things off, but I didn’t understand then.”

 

“Understand what?”

 

“That you really did love me.”

 

Spike was silent, still blown away by her acknowledgement. “Yeah.”

 

“So, you’re going to stay with Tara?” Buffy asked, changing the subject.

 

“Don’t know what else to do,” he said. “She still wants me there, and with Red leaving for England in the summer, it’s not like she’s got someone else to help her pay the rent.”

 

Buffy nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

 

“Someone to keep an eye on me, huh?” Spike asked wryly.

 

Buffy shook her head. “Not so much that as the fact that it’s good that you have a friend. I won’t lie to you, Spike. The whole ‘obsessed’ thing kind of freaked me out.”

 

Spike thought he understood now the way he wouldn’t have before. He’d been fixated on Drusilla, but she had demanded that sort of attention; Buffy didn’t need it, and she had her own life to deal with. Buffy had Dawn—they both did—and work and school and a hundred other things that demanded her attention from day to day. Spike—well, now Spike had Tara, and he was beginning to think about other things that might keep him busy.

 

That was something else William had taught him—that he needed to be his own man, whether or not he was in love. Spike had always had more passion than one cause could absorb, even when that cause was the Slayer.

 

“Where are we going from here, Buffy?” Spike asked softly, knowing that his words held an echo of the first night they’d kissed.

 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think as long as we’re both on the same side, we can figure it out as we go.” Buffy gave him a hard look. “You haven’t changed your mind about that, have you?”

 

“About what?” Spike asked.

 

“Eating people.”

 

“No,” he said, looking her right in the eye. “I don’t break my promises, Buffy. I told you, I don’t hurt the people that I love.”

 

Buffy nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “I believe that.”

 

Spike hid his hurt, wishing that she’d been able to give him a little more than that. He supposed he ought to be grateful that she’d at least acknowledged that his love for her was real, but it still felt as though she was holding back something of herself.

 

It made it harder to trust that this relationship wasn’t going to end just as badly this time around.

 

~~~~~

 

“William turned up again, huh?” Eric asked.

 

Dawn had told him as much, but she’d left out most of the details, seeing as how he had no idea about vampires and demons. After giving him broad outline, leaving out the fact that William had shown up as a vampire—again—she’d swiftly changed the subject. Apparently, Eric was bringing it up again. “Yeah, a couple of days ago.”

 

“The same or different?”

 

Dawn wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “A little bit of both,” she finally said cautiously. “He just had to get some things sorted out.”

 

Eric nodded. “That’s good. I mean, I know that there have been a lot of disappearances around here, so it’s good that he turned up again.”

 

“Yeah,” Dawn said. “I guess he was just worried about what Buffy would say since he was out of town for a few days.”

 

Eric made a noncommittal sound. “How are you with all of this?”

 

“Now that he’s back?” Dawn asked. “I’m fine. It’s good, Eric.”

 

“Because you were pretty down there for a while.”

 

“It was just the idea that he wouldn’t be around again,” Dawn said. “I mean, I’ve lost enough people, and William was kind of an older brother. He was around a lot last summer.”

 

“What happened last summer?” Eric asked curiously.

 

Dawn sighed, hating this part of their relationship. There was really no way to explain the truth, though—not without giving him all the gory details.

 

It wasn’t really vampires and demons, or the fact that her sister was the Slayer, that discouraged Dawn from ever revealing what her life was actually like. The real fear entered when she thought about explaining the fact that she had only been in existence two years—or two billion, depending on how you thought about it.

 

Eric was really nice, and there was no way that Dawn wanted to do anything to scare him off at this stage of the game. “Buffy got sick,” she explained. “Sp—William was the one who really stuck around.”

 

Eric nodded. “I have an uncle like that,” he said mildly. “Dad’s brother. I was named for him, you know.”

 

“Really?” Dawn asked, glad that the conversation had turned to his past rather than hers. “Is he still around?”

 

“He’s a journalist,” Eric said. “He’s always off chasing some war or something, but when he comes to visit, he always brings the coolest presents.”

 

“I’ll bet,” Dawn said.

 

Eric hesitated, then said, “So, I get it, you know? I mean, there was this one time when he dropped off the radar for three months while he was down in South America. Everybody thought he’d been killed, but it turned out he was just chasing a big story and couldn’t contact anybody.”

 

Dawn nodded, glad that Eric had waited to tell her that until after Spike had shown up. She probably would have been unreasonably angry at him before, if only because his mysterious uncle was still alive, but now that everything was going to be okay, she was grateful for his empathy.

 

“Thanks.”

 

He gave her a startled look. “For what?”

 

“For being there,” Dawn replied. “You helped me not to go crazy this last week.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” Eric said, reaching for her hand.

 

Dawn let him entwine his fingers with hers, and she leaned into his shoulder as they walked along, feeling safe and warm and young.

 

It wasn’t often that Dawn got to feel normal, but this was one of those moments.

 

She just wished she could tell Eric what it meant to her to have him there.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles leaned across the table to wipe a bit of sauce from Anya’s chin. “You had something—just there.”

 

Anya smiled. “You could have gotten it off some other way.”

 

Giles glanced around the restaurant. It was busy tonight, and the atmosphere was rather noisy, otherwise he might have tried a different technique as she suggested. “I’m sure I could work on that.”

 

Anya smiled wistfully. “You’re not coming back to Sunnydale, are you?”

 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Buffy and the others seem to be doing well, and my job with the Council requires my presence in England—or in Europe at the very least. I care for you a great deal, but—”

 

She nodded, cutting him off. “I know. I was thinking that I might relocate. As long as I can keep teleporting, I could work from anywhere.”

 

Giles nodded. “You could,” he said neutrally, not wanting to affect her decision one way or another.

 

“I enjoy working at the Magic Box,” Anya continued, “but I don’t know that I want to work there forever. Staying in Sunnydale isn’t as important to me as it used to be.”

 

Giles was a little surprised by that, but he couldn’t blame Anya. Even though she seemed to have come to terms with Xander leaving her, he could imagine that it would be difficult to remain here, where memories pressed in all around. “I don’t want you to feel as though you have to stay,” he said. “Whatever you need to do, I’ll fully support your decision.”

 

“Thank you,” Anya replied, her eyes warm. Her expression told him that he’d just offered her something precious, although Giles wasn’t quite sure what that might be. “I don’t need to make a decision right away. It’s a big step.”

 

“It’s certainly not something you want to rush into,” Giles replied, thinking of how his quick decision to leave Sunnydale had nearly been disastrous. At this point, looking back, he could just imagine how many other things might have gone wrong, how easy it would have been to lose Buffy altogether.

 

Giles had hoped that his leaving would shock her out of her apathy, and perhaps it had. Or, perhaps it had only been the passage of time that had awoken Buffy to her responsibilities, to the joy that life had to offer. His departure might have done nothing more than to make it harder on her in the long run.

 

He supposed that he would never know, and could only be grateful that Buffy had eventually come around.

 

Perhaps it had worked out for the best, since Giles didn’t think he’d have had this relationship with Anya had he remained in Sunnydale.

 

Of course, perhaps if he’d remained in Sunnydale, Anya wouldn’t have felt the need to become a vengeance demon again.

 

As though she’d read his mind, Anya smiled at him. “Sometimes things turn out for the best,” she observed. “I think they might have this time.”

 

Giles certainly hoped so.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander leaned up against the bar, next to Willow. “So, you guys are back together?”

 

“Sort of,” Willow said. “I mean, we’re trying to make the dating thing work, but we’re not planning on living together any time soon. Things are good right now, though.”

 

“And England?” he asked. “You really okay with going, Will? Because you were pretty upset there for a while.”

 

Willow shook her head. “I think it’s the right thing to do. I’m beginning to understand how much I _don’t_ know, and if I really want to help Buffy and make a difference, I need to change that.”

 

“They say that knowing you don’t know everything is the beginning of wisdom,” Xander teased with a grin.

 

Willow gave him a mock-glare and turned the tables. “How was your lunch with—Melanie, right?”

 

“It was fun,” Xander said. “She gave me her number, so I might call her sometime.”

 

“Ready to get back up on the horse?” Willow asked, her eyes full of sympathy.

 

Xander shook his head. “I don’t know, Will. I won’t lie to you; it still hurts. When I walk past the Magic Box and think about how bad I screwed everything up…” He trailed off. “I’m not ready for anything serious, but this doesn’t have to be. It could just be fun.”

 

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Dating a single mom?”

 

Xander’s face softened. “Yeah, well, he’s a pretty cute kid.”

 

“Who’s pretty cute?” Buffy asked, popping up at Xander’s elbow.

 

“Xander had a date yesterday,” Willow said. “I told you about it.”

 

“Oh, right,” Buffy said, a sly look in her eyes. “How was it?”

 

“It was good,” he said defensively. “She laughed at my jokes, which is more than I can say for some people.”

 

Buffy gave him a pitying look. “That’s because your jokes aren’t always that funny, Xander.”

 

Xander clutched his chest as though he’d been stabbed, and his antics caused both women to laugh. “Go ahead and laugh,” he said. “I know you have to be special to understand my brand of humor.” When Willow and Buffy exchanged looks, he groaned. “Please, don’t. I know I walked right into that one.”

 

“We won’t rub it in,” Willow said soothingly.

 

“So, is the bleached wonder coming tonight?” Xander asked, trying to sound as though he didn’t care. Willow had already read him the riot act about letting Buffy date whomever she wanted, and how if he didn’t want to alienate the Slayer, he’d make nice with the vampire.

 

Xander couldn’t promise “nice,” but he thought he might be able to manage civil.

 

“He should be here pretty soon,” Buffy said craning her neck. “He was walking Tara over, and then we’re supposed to go on patrol.”

 

“You guys are making that a nightly habit,” Willow teased.

 

Buffy flushed. “Yeah, well, it’s nice to be able to talk to someone while I’m wandering the graveyards. I missed that.”

 

Xander decided not to probe that too deeply, and when Willow leaned over and whispered, “I think Tara’s going to come over tonight, and we’ll look after Dawn,” Xander decided to pretend that he didn’t hear it.

 

There were some mental images he really didn’t need.

 

~~~~~

 

“It’s almost like nothing has changed,” Tara observed as they walked towards the Bronze to meet the others.

 

Spike smirked. “Nothing except for those heavy drapes and the contents of your fridge, you mean.”

 

Tara rolled her eyes. “Those kinds of things don’t matter, not in the long run.”

 

“And what does matter, luv?” he asked, sensing that her mood had turned serious, and that she had something she wanted to say.

 

Tara smiled. “This, right now. The fact that you’re going to go to that poetry reading with me on Wednesday night to listen to me recite, when no one else knows about it. The fact that you’re still the same man I trust.”

 

Spike was deeply touched, although he had a hard time admitting it, even to Tara. She had always seemed to bring out the best in him. “The fact that no one else knows I’m going to a poetry reading with you is the same reason I’m going.”

 

Tara laughed. “Come on, Spike. Buffy wouldn’t care. She’s seen William.”

 

Spike shook his head. “She saw him, but she doesn’t really _know_ him, not like you do. Figure it’ll be a while before she does.”

 

“You love her,” Tara pointed out. “And I know she has feelings for you. Why not tell her?”

 

“For the same reason that you weren’t jumping into Willow’s bed again,” Spike said. “I don’t quite trust whatever this is between us. Reckon I will in time, but she—she hasn’t said it yet, you know?”

 

Tara nodded, understanding beginning to dawn. “I suppose that’s why you wanted to keep the apartment.”

 

“Makes more sense anyway,” Spike pointed out. “Not that it matters for me, but you can use the extra cash, and I know Buffy’s happier about Dawn visiting me if I’m not living in a crypt. Hell, she’s probably happier visiting when it’s a cozy little flat for two.”

 

Tara glanced up at him. “That reminds me. Willow already asked me if I wanted to come over tonight. I probably won’t be back until tomorrow sometime.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he asked, not quite understanding her point. Tara snorted in laughter, and Spike suddenly got it, remembering that William had asked nearly the same thing. “Never mind.”

 

They were standing outside the Bronze, and Tara placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Buffy’s changed in the last months,” she said. “She’s in a better place now, and so are you. Don’t let fear hold you back, William.”

 

“I’m not afraid,” Spike replied, troubled by her implication.

 

He’d never allowed fear to hold him back before; he wasn’t going to start now.

 

~~~~~

 

“Anyway, Giles is staying for another week, I guess,” Buffy said. “Did you know he’s dating Anya? No one wants to tell Xander, and I’m really hoping that he doesn’t find out by accident.” She stopped, realizing that Spike wasn’t really listening. “I also thought that maybe I would shave my head,” Buffy said. “Because that look is in this fall.”

 

“Huh?” Spike glanced over at her, startled. “You’re going to what?”

 

Buffy sighed. “Never mind. I just wanted to see if you were listening, and you weren’t.”

 

“Sorry, luv,” Spike replied. “Was just thinking about something.”

 

“Penny?”

 

“Just something Tara said to me is all,” he replied. “Nothing important.”

 

Buffy wasn’t quite sure what to say. She could feel a distance there between them; it had sprung up when he’d first become human again, and she didn’t think that his getting turned had bridged the gap. If anything, it only made it worse.

 

Spike had loved her, but she didn’t know if he still felt the same way. He had changed.

 

“You want to call it a night?” Spike suddenly asked, breaking the silence that hung between them. “There’s nothing out.”

 

“Sure,” Buffy replied. “Do you want to walk me home, or…”

 

“My place is available,” Spike said, his blue eyes serious. “If you want.”

 

Want had never been a problem with them, Buffy thought, although she didn’t say it aloud. “That would be great.”

 

He was still silent as they got closer to his apartment building, and Buffy suddenly wondered if this was enough—if their relationship would ever really _work_. Maybe she was crazy—if the very idea of a Slayer and a vampire was impossible, maybe the idea of her and Spike was ten times worse.

 

They had tried to kill each other; they’d hurt each other in ways no one else would ever match.

 

But Buffy didn’t want to let him go. She’d experienced life without him, and it didn’t suit her.

 

Spike unlocked the door and held it open for her. Buffy murmured her thanks as she passed inside, waiting for the moment when everything clicked for them again. Waiting for the moment when the whole world faded away and left the two of them alone.

 

Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if it would ever be like that again.

 

Spike was looking at her, as though waiting for her to say or do something. She realized that he was waiting for her to indicate what she wanted, because she had always been the one to come to him. The few times that he’d approached her, that he’d asked her to discuss their relationship, she’d turned him down flat. Buffy had always insisted on calling the shots, and on setting the pace.

 

How on earth had she ever thought that they could make this work after everything that had happened? At least, not without changing things up a bit.

 

“I trust you.”

 

Buffy watched as those three words sank into him, as he processed her meaning and the intent behind them, as he realized that she spoke the truth. She’d always found it difficult to use the ‘l’-word, but she could give him this much right now. The other feelings were there, and the words would come in time, but Buffy couldn’t bring herself to say them right now. Not with the distance between them. As she watched Spike’s eyes light up, however, Buffy knew that she’d done the right thing.

 

Spike’s hand caressed her face, as though he was memorizing her features, this moment. Buffy reached out to him, to pull him closer, but he gave a quick shake of his head. “No. Let me.”

 

And Buffy gave up; she surrendered, allowed him to lead, to set the pace. Time slowed to a crawl as Spike forced her to go slow—when normally their clothing couldn’t be removed quickly enough, tonight everything was done at the slowest of speeds.

 

Spike drove her crazy in the best possible way.

 

Later—much later—when they finally made it to his bed, when he was on top of her, and inside of her, and _completing_ her, Buffy wondered why she’d ever doubted that they would make this work. It would never be easy, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t worth doing.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, as the overwhelming crescendo of desire receded, leaving them both gasping for breath.

 

Buffy touched his lips with hers in a gentle caress. “I know you do.” And, because it was true, because something had been loosed during their lovemaking, she said, “I love you, too.”


End file.
